


go, as far as it is possible to go

by bleucheese



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1980s, Abuse, Alternate Universe, Amorality, Cold War, Complicated Relationships, End of the Cold War, Falling Out of Love, Gen, Gray!Severus, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape Friendship, Lucius Malfoy & Severus Snape Friendship, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Random OCs as needed (not main characters), Severus Snape-centric, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:15:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 51,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25500469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleucheese/pseuds/bleucheese
Summary: Severus Snape grew up before Hogwarts. Before Hogwarts, he watched people destroy each other with nuclear power, people lift each other up all the way to the moon. As he comes to love the magical world, and the people in it, he cannot forget about the horror and beauty the Muggles created- and with that comes a devastating awareness of his own future, but more importantly, the future of wizardkind itself.
Relationships: Eileen Prince & Severus Snape, Eileen Prince/Tobias Snape, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape, Lily Evans Potter/Severus Snape (onesided), Lucius Malfoy & Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 23
Kudos: 74





	1. Spinner's End

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Snape-centric AU set during the end of the cold war (which is canon, by the way). What if Snape didn't forget the Muggle world entirely when he came to Hogwarts? What if he, in fact, feared it? 
> 
> Given he grew up & went to primary school during the Cold War, participating in nuclear strike drills, and also suffered abuse at home, the idea isn't implausible. Severus here will be decidedly gray, and decidedly intelligent. He will not be a genius, nor will he possess mysterious powers. This is mostly a story of friendship, of Severus' relationships with Lucius, and with Lily mostly. May include romance, I haven't decided yet, but any Severus romance will not include either Lucius or Lily. 
> 
> Unbritpicked, unbetaed, all mistakes are my fault. The quotes at the top of each chapter are fake quotes I made up from the canon timeline.

“When I attended, the person on Hogwarts staff who had the most experience living with modern Muggles was Professor Severus Snape; abject poverty in Cokeworth doesn’t paint a pretty picture.”  
\- Hermione Granger, second debate of the Hogwarts Post-War Reform Act  
______________________

Severus Snape woke to dual tones of rain and shouting. Groaning, he turned over in bed and buried his head beneath his pillow. He could hear his father in the front room, drunkenly lambasting his mother. He fought the urge to run downstairs, knowing his presence would prolong the abuse. It was always the same. Tobias' voice drifted up the stairs. "Dealings with the devil, I'm poisoned, woman!" A slap. "Where's your bloody stick-" Severus pressed down harder with the pillow, trying to block out the noise. Where was his mother's wand? The last time he'd seen her use it had been- he cast his mind back- almost six months ago. She'd reheated her tea after Tobias had fallen asleep one night, and he hadn't seen it since. He hoped it was somewhere safe. 

Last Christmas, Tobias had snapped his mother's first wand. She'd screamed and sobbed, clutching the broken beech and unicorn hair. Tobias had sneered at her, and walked away. He returned, with money, on New Year's, and begged her forgiveness, assured her he loved her and he'd never do that again. He pressed the money into her hands and urged her to buy a new wand. Severus hadn't believed his words for a moment. 

That new wand, walnut and unicorn hair, nine inches, was the only power Eileen held over Tobias Snape. Severus had begged her in whispers, time and time again, to use it on him. 

Last week, Tobias had walked in drunk, and burned Eileen's arm against the stovetop before passing out. Severus went downstairs, helping his mother ice her arm. "He's just a Muggle!" he'd hissed. "Why would you let him hurt you?"

Eileen had smiled, and stroked Severus' hair. "We love each other, Severus. I could never use magic on him when he couldn't defend himself." Severus had opened his mouth to reply, but she hushed him. Noticing her stressed, pale countenance, Severus had stayed quiet. But in his head, his objection played - he uses his fists on you when you can’t- won’t- defend yourself.

Severus cautiously loosened his grip on his pillow, straining to hear any noise from downstairs. To his relief, it seemed quiet. Tobias must have fallen asleep. He turned on his flashlight and looked at the analog clock on his nightstand. 4:15 AM - wonderful. Stumbling out of bed, he cautiously tiptoed down the stairs into the front room. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs. His mother was sitting on the floor, cradling her jaw in her hands. Around her were shards of broken glass. 

Severus sighed. He crossed to the kitchen, digging a bag of ice out of the freezer. Wrapping some in a kitchen towel, he picked through the glass, and handed it off to his mother. He then went in search of a broom and dustpan, and began sweeping the glass off the floor. Eileen was quiet as he swept around her. The only sound was the rain and the softly tinkling glass. 

His mother was curled into a ball, hands busy pressing the ice against her jaw. Her face was hidden from Severus' view by a curtain of hair, but he could imagine her expression well enough. Abruptly, he pushed the thought out of his mind and emptied the dustpan into the trash. He then walked over to kneel next to his mother. 

"Get up, Mother," he whispered. "Come on."

Eileen knew their script well by now, and rose to her feet, steadying herself on Severus' arm. They made for the stairs in a slow shuffle, Severus taking most of his mother's weight. He helped her up the stairs, and they made it to his room. He sat Eileen down on his bed. 

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"No," she replied. A tear ran down her cheek. "Merlin, Severus. I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. It was the same, every time. If she were truly sorry, she'd take up her wand and make Tobias forget them, forever and ever.

"It's okay," he responded, nudging at her shoulder to get her to lie down. At last, he got Eileen in bed and tucked a blanket around her. He walked over to his closet, and laid out his sleeping bag and spare pillow. The hands of his clock seemed to taunt him. 5:30 AM. He sighed, sliding into the sleeping bag. He'd have school in a few hours.  
_____________________

Five days a week, eight hours a day, Severus Snape could be found at Cokeworth Primary. Dull gray walls boxed the children in, under a stormy England sky. He wore the same uniform as everyone else, ate the same food as everyone else, and generally kept his head down. The school was full of lower-class boys. A few had loving families. Most did not. Everyone quickly learned which boys were which, simply by watching them walk in on Mondays. 

There was an unspoken rule of etiquette at school. A boy could start fights, mock or bully his classmates, or harass the teachers without lasting repercussions. The only taboo was commenting on a fellow student's Monday bruises - in Cokeworth, that was tantamount to starting a blood feud. 

Severus, of course, had never made that particular social gaffe, nor many others. He'd become skilled, over the years, at evading everyone's notice. Nobody at school particularly liked or hated him, neither teacher nor student. In fact, had they been asked, they would likely be hard-pressed to remember Severus Snape at all. 

This hadn't always been the case. A few years ago, Severus had earned a perfect score on a math test. The teacher was new, young and bright and eager. Severus, Eileen, and Tobias had all been stunned when they'd found him knocking at the door that weekend. 

Eileen and Tobias let him in, and served him tea. The four of them sat at the table, and he'd pulled out Severus' test, speaking enthusiastically to the Snapes. Why, your son is just brilliant, and he might have a real chance, you know - if we got him into an advanced track, we could get him a scholarship to a private secondary, and from there, the sky's the limit! Eileen's eyes had been bright, and she nodded along with the teacher. Tobias' gaze was flat.

After the teacher left, Tobias went out. Then he returned, whiskey in hand. Severus hid in his room. Then the yelling, again. Severus ensured his future exams gave his teachers no reason to visit his parents, positive or negative. And that was the end of that.  
_____________________

Life at Spinner's End was not pleasant. Long periods of waiting, followed by violent episodes created an aura of anxiety and fear about the house. As such, Severus tried to spend as much time outside as possible. That was where he found one small source of joy. This was the television store, several blocks over from his school. He went there as often as he could. The store owner had a TV in the back, always on, ready to show off to customers. Severus had seen it once, and enthralled, he'd sat before it to watch the program. He'd got through about half of it before he heard the store owner walking towards him. He closed his eyes, and clenched his fists, and wished as hard as he could that the man wouldn't see him. Don't notice me don't notice me dontnoticemedontnoticeme- and the man had walked right past him, as if he wasn't even there. 

Since then, the TV store had become Severus' favorite refuge. The owner always had the news channel on, and Severus eagerly absorbed the tales of espionage, of abductions and secret agencies and Russia and America. He'd always had to do the four-minute warning exercise at school, but he'd never really understood what it was for until he found the TV shop. He watched, over and over, clips of the American nuclear attack on Japan. He was fascinated by the mushroom cloud gently curling, glowing and expanding like a second sun, the burned expanse of the land afterwards. How ducking under his desk would protect him from that, he knew not. He often daydreamed of Tobias, caught right in the center of it.

Severus watched suspects and secret operations, from Rome to Delhi to Beijing. He watched the Americans march on Vietnam, and the Russians march on Czechoslovakia, and a thousand other intrigues - of ships, and submarines, and nuclear warheads. His favorite program was the moon landing. Every time they replayed it, Severus would move so his eyes were a hair’s breadth from the screen, as if by seeing all the details he could teleport himself to the moon.

However, it was not the moon but the bombs that became both his greatest fear and his greatest obsession. Idle in class, he found his hands moving to sketch mushroom clouds and maps, pretending he led the Soviet Union or the United States. Some days Severus pretended to be a spy, a double-triple-quadruple agent whose loyalties would remain unclear all his life. Some days he was a righteous crusader, a leader or fighter or counter-spy. His favorite days, however, were those when he was a scientist, a maker of nuclear warheads- he created the power to turn the world to dust, held it in his hands, could launch it without anyone's permission and exert his will on the world. He smiled at the thought. If everyone feared him, nobody would dare lay a hand on him or his mother.

Going home was a rude awakening to the fact that he had no such power. He plugged his ears, again, to wait out the yelling, and tried to return to space, float amongst the stars.

_________________

As it happens, Severus encountered the second spot of brightness in his life at the TV shop, as well.

It was another of those gray Saturday afternoons that were so plentiful in England. Severus was at his usual haunt, when a bell chimed at the door. A family of four walked in. Normally, Severus ignored the store customers. They could not see him, anyway. But this family was an exception. A beautiful red-headed girl, about his age, was staring straight at him. Her sister stood next to her, brown-haired, slim, and tall. Red tugged on her sister's sleeve, trying to get her attention. Her sister finally turned towards her, and then towards Severus- and her eyes slid over him as if he wasn't even there. Severus smirked. 

The redhead was beginning to look confused, and a little bit upset. He raised a finger to his lips, making the "shh" sign. Her eyes widened and she stepped closer to her mother. Silently, Severus left the store and waited outside by the window display. The girl stared at him for a minute, then tugged at her mother's skirt.

"Mom, I'm gonna look at the screens from outside, okay?" she asked. Her voice was high and sweet.

Her mother, also in possession of that flame-red hair, looked down at her. "Alright, darling," she replied. "Don't wander off!"

And now the girl was outside, and looking at Severus. He felt his palms begin to sweat. The girl spoke first.

"Who are you?"

Severus took a deep breath and answered. "I'm Severus. Snape. How come you can see me?"

"Are you an invisible boy?"

The corners of Severus' mouth turned up. "Not exactly."

The girl's eyebrows furrowed. "Well, you're not very polite, are you." She walked up to him, bold as brass, and stuck out her hand. "I'm Lily Evans, nice to meet you. I live in Cokeworth, but not close to here, and I'm nine years old." 

"See?" she said, smiling. "That's how you introduce yourself."

"Okay," said Severus. He reached out to shake her hand. "I'm Severus Snape, nice to meet you. I live in Cokeworth, very close to here, and I am also nine years old." He dropped her hand as quickly as she would permit it.

"Lily," a deep voice called, "who are you talking to?" 

Her family had finished their shopping, it seems, and emerged from the store.

"You can see him?" asked Lily, excited. "I thought he was invisible! Tuney couldn't see him in the shop!"

The brown-haired girl - Tuney? - frowned. "There was nobody in the shop besides us, Lily." She turned towards Snape, on the verge of sneering as she took in his shoulder-length hair and ill-fitted clothing. "I definitely would have noticed him."

Something in her tone made Severus angry. "Actually, I was inside," he said smoothly. "You probably missed me because I was behind the shelves."

Lily smiled. "I knew you weren't an invisible boy! That's impossible, right dad?"

"Right!" Mr. Evans said, laughing. "Now Lily, I'm glad to see you're making friends, but we need to get home in time for Petunia's piano lesson. So say goodbye to your friend there, and we'll get going."

The couple and Tuney- Petunia- walked towards their car. Lily looked at Severus expectantly. "So?" she asked. "Do you want to be my friend?"

He paused, taking in her lovely red hair, bright green eyes, and pastel-pink sweater. Nobody had ever asked him to be their friend before. 

"Hurry up, Lily!" Petunia called from the car.

"Yes-" he said abruptly. "Yes, let's be friends."

Lily beamed, producing a pen and paper from her pocket. "Good! Write your house phone so my parents can call your parents!"

Severus blanched. "We don't exactly, um, our phone is broken. But I'm at this shop every weekend.”

Lily looked surprised. "Oh, ok! I hope your phone gets fixed soon!" She ran off to the car, waving goodbye.

________________________

To Severus' surprise, two weeks later, Lily showed up at the store with her sister. Surprise overcoming his regret at cutting off his program halfway, he emerged to greet them. 

"Hello, Lily." He nodded to her politely. He then extended a hand to Petunia. "Hello, I'm Severus Snape."

Petunia looked at his hand as if it was a particularly nasty insect. At last, she reached out reluctantly to shake it. "Petunia Evans," she said. 

"So, where should we go?" asked Lily. "I think the man won't let us play in the store."

"I know a park near here," said Severus. The three of them began to walk, watery sunlight filtering through the clouds above. Severus turned to Lily, a thought occurring to him. "Did your parents ask any questions? When you told them I'm at the TV shop every weekend?"

Petunia interjected. "She didn't tell them," she said irritably. "They think you two arranged to meet at the shop."

"You don't live there, do you?" asked Lily doubtfully. 

"No," said Severus. "I live down the street, that way." He pointed in the approximate direction of his house.

"You live in Spinner’s End?” asked Petunia, sounding incredulous and appalled. Severus chose not to dignify that with a response. He was disgusted with himself for feeling inferior and self-conscious, and tried to tamp down his anger.

Tactfully, Lily chose to ignore the disagreement entirely. "I'm happy the sun's out today," she said brightly, turning her face up to its rays. Petunia turned to look at her, and her entire demeanor changed. Watching Lily, Petunia's smile went from thin and pinched to almost radiant. In that moment, she was as beautiful as Lily. Severus knew, then, why Petunia had bothered to come along on this trip.

The three children fell into natural conversation. As they reached the park, Severus was regaling the sisters with the story of the Soviet spy he'd seen on television that day, when he spotted a boy from school sitting on the swings. It was Michael Weston- he and Severus had been lab partners in science for two years now. They worked together with quiet civility, hardly exchanging words beyond what was necessary.

"Afternoon, Snape," he said.

"Afternoon, Weston," came the reply.

Severus and the sisters walked past the swings and sat on top of the hill. 

"Was that boy your friend?" asked Lily.

"No," said Snape. "I don't have many friends at school."

Lily looked sad for him, ridiculous and sweet all at once. Severus realized he was staring, jerking his head away to gaze into the distance. 

"Tuney doesn't, either," said Lily. "Maybe you two can be friends!"

Petunia's lips went tight and pinched again. "I'm going to use the facilities." She got up, looking at Severus expectantly. 

He pointed in their general direction. "The gray building, on the right, opposite end of the park." She nodded primly and walked off.

"I know Tuney doesn't like when I tell people that," said Lily. "But if nobody knows, then nobody can help her! You should ask for help, too." Her tone was grave, as if she was imparting a great secret. "Parents are really good at helping. I had no school friends in first grade, you know, but then Mom helped me."

Severus was beginning to feel quite uncomfortable with this topic. He took his jacket off, fiddling with the buttons and laying it on his lap. "Say, Lily," he began abruptly. "D'you want to see something?" He was overcome with a strange desire to impress her, to have her think well of him.

"Okay," she replied. 

Severus turned around and pulled a tiny daisy from the ground, putting it in the center of his palm. "Watch," he said softly. Then he looked at the daisy himself, and concentrated on it. He imagined its petals moving in and out of the center, like a Venus flytrap moved- slowly, but fast enough to be deliberate. Lily gasped. The petals were moving, just as he'd imagined it.

"This," Severus said, "is magic."

Lily's mouth was wide open. "Whoa!" she exclaimed. "You're magic?"

"Shhh," he cautioned. "It's a secret. The Muggles - that is, non magical people - they can't know."

"But you showed me. So that means I'm not a Muggle, right?" asked Lily.

Severus frowned. "Actually, I'm not sure. I showed you because I think you can keep a secret. You can, right?"

"I can!" Lily replied. "But I'm not a Muggle, you'll see. If you can do it, I can do it too!" 

Severus frowned again. He hoped that if she couldn't do it, she wasn't too disappointed. She was nice. Lily held the daisy in her palm and tried to copy what he had been doing, concentrating on it. "Imagine the petals opening and closing," Severus said, trying to help. "Imagine what you want and pretend it's true, and it might happen."

"Watch my hand," she commanded. She closed her eyes, and Severus obligingly watched the daisy. In a few seconds, the petals were moving in and out, just as Severus' had. 

"Merlin and Morgana," Severus breathed. "You've done it, Lily. You're a witch!"

Lily opened her eyes and frowned. "A witch? That's so mean, Sev!" 

Severus waved his arms, frantic. "No, no - I just mean, you're magical! You can do magic, you're just like me!"

She smiled. "I knew it! And if I can do it, Tuney can too!"

He paused. "Well, maybe- I don't know, actually. But listen, Lily?"

"Yes?"

"You can't tell anyone except your sister about this. Seriously. Not even your parents."

"Why not?"

"They're Muggles, remember? Non-magical. They wouldn't understand, and you'd scare them. But you don't have to keep the secret forever. There's a magic school, and when you're eleven, someone from the school will come and explain to your parents all about magic."

"Okay," said Lily. "That makes sense. I don't want to scare Mom and Dad. You know, when our cousin Ritchie came home last Christmas, he told them he knows how to use a gun now, he said he learned it in London. But they were scared of him, I think. We don't talk to cousin Ritchie anymore."

Severus tamped down his grimace, and the urge to tell Lily that that was probably for the best. "Exactly, so just keep it a secret until the adults can explain it to them. Adults listen to adults, but not kids." Lily nodded gravely.

Petunia, in the meantime, had made it back from the bathroom. She sat down next to Lily. "So?" she asked. "Did you already finish the spy story?"

Severus perked up, ready to launch into it again, but Lily beat him to the punch. "Tuney, look what I can do," she giggled, raising the daisy in her palms. Petunia looked confused. "Look at the daisy," said Lily. Then Petunia was watching as the petals moved on their own. A shade of shock crossed her face. 

"What- how-"

"Sev taught me! It's so cool! Look, Tuney, I'll teach you-"

Petunia's eyes were wide with horror and surprise. "That's not natural, Lily," she snapped. 

"Well, I know, but it's so cool!"

"Wait, wait-" said Petunia. "You could teach me?" She was looking at Severus.

"Maybe, I'm not sure," he said. "Some people have the ability, some don't."

"Let's find out, then." 

He crawled over to her and gave her the same explanation he'd given Lily. Petunia focused on the daisy, and the two spectators watched with bated breath. Long moments passed, but the petals did not move. Severus sat back on his heels. "Oh, well," he said. "Seems you're a Muggle."

Petunia scowled. "What did you call me?"

"Muggle. It means a person who can't do magic."

She turned on Lily. "Is this some sort of prank? You two are playing some sort of unpleasant joke on me, aren't you? Laughing at me behind my back, calling me horrible names? And all over this stupid trick flower!” She smashed the daisy in her palm.

Lily looked shocked. "No, wait, Tuney, I swear Sev told me the same thing he told you! It's not a prank, I'd never call you names!"

Behind Lily's back, Severus smirked, remembering Petunia's commentary on Spinner’s End. "There's nothing wrong with it, you know," he said, allowing his anger free rein. "It just means you're a Muggle."

Petunia's face turned red, then white. "Shut up!" she yelled. "Just shut up!" Her lips pressed together and trembled. She turned away, facing the street, and checked her watch. 

"Mom and Dad are expecting us back at the store in one hour, Lily," she said, voice carefully controlled. "Come get me when you're ready." She walked down the hill and sat on the swings, studiously ignoring Weston on the one next to her.

Severus felt a flash of guilt, but dismissed it. She had dismissed him, in any case, based on his mismatched clothing and neighborhood- he owed her no courtesies.

Lily, for her part, looked quite worried about her sister. "Maybe I should go after her," she said. 

"Don't," Severus advised. He had enough experience with an upset Tobias to know how to approach. "Let her cool off, and talk to your parents about it. She's still too angry to talk right now."

Lily's face fell. "I guess so. Do you think she'll forgive me?"

He scoffed. "There's nothing to forgive. We weren't playing a prank."

She still looked upset, but decided to drop the subject. "Okay, then, can you tell me more about that magic school before I have to leave?"

Severus smiled. "Well, it's called Hogwarts, and..."


	2. Wand of Hawthorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Severus goes to Diagon Alley for the first time.

“You were right to trust him all along, Albus. I never would have guessed - a shift in his loyalties, all for love of Lily Potter. You did always see the best in people.”  
\- Minerva McGonagall to Albus Dumbledore’s portrait, after the Battle of Hogwarts  
_______________

Severus nearly skidded on ice as he jogged towards the mailbox. He and Lily had been sending letters back and forth regularly for almost a year and a half now, and managed to meet up from time to time as well. They mostly talked about magic, and Lily's family, and of course Russian spies (Severus had brought up the topic of nuclear weapons, but it made Lily upset). He kept all of her letters in a box under a pile of junk in his closet, so Tobias would never find them. Every so often he'd pull them out and read them, but today he was expecting a new one. He was almost jumping in anticipation when the postman arrived. Sorting quickly through the post, he stuffed Lily's letter into the elastic of his pyjama pants and went back inside, tossing the remaining mail onto the table and hurrying up to his room. 

He opened the envelope, and then the letter, carefully. "Dear Sev," it began. He felt his face heat up.

Dear Sev,  
Mom keeps saying you should visit - I know you don't want to, but she likes you! She says you sparked my interest in world events. We just watched a program about George Blake. Mom said I should always fight for my ideals, but never compromise my morals, and Mr. Blake compromised his morals, so he's a bad man. Do you think you would be a good spy? I think you would. You could probably fool anybody.  
Thanks for the birthday gift! I loved it! Mom loves putting ribbons in my hair, but I'm bad at doing it myself. Maybe you can do it for me when we get to Hogwarts. Mom says a special thank you for the silver one, it's her favorite color. I can't wait for my letter. More importantly, I can't believe you still won't show me yours! Mom and dad are going to be so surprised when it appears.  
I read everything you said about the Hogwarts classes. Transfiguration sounds really hard, but I think Potions will be easy, because I'm good at cooking. I started practicing how to chop vegetables up really neatly like you said. Mom is really impressed, she said I'm becoming a "mature young lady" because I want to help with chores but Tuney doesn't.  
Actually, I heard Tuney on the phone with one of her horrible friends. She was saying stuff about me, so I stopped to listen. She said I'm a horrible brat and I get all the attention from Mom and Dad and Grandma and Grandpa and boys at school and everyone, and take it all away from her. It made me really sad. I want her to be happy, but I just don't know how to fix it. Since I’m learning to cook anyway, maybe I can make her some surprise cupcakes.  
Anyway, I don’t know if we can see each other for a while. Miranda, a friend from school, told me that when her parents found out she got accepted to a boarding school, they didn’t let her out of the house for months because they couldn’t see her at school after she went. I’ll try to convince Mom and Dad though!  
Your friend,  
Lily

P.S. Please please please agree to come visit!

Severus scoffed. Sometimes, Lily was far too naive. Mrs. Evans liked him, did she. Once she truly met him, with his mismatched clothes and scowl, that wouldn’t last long. At least Lily liked the gift he’d sent. He’d spent months stealing small amounts of change from Tobias’ pockets to save up for a pack of sparkly ribbons for her. For his birthday, she’d sent him a small scrapbook. The cover said “For Fond Memories”, but she’d crossed out “Fond” and written “Hogwarts” in permanent marker. Inside, there was a picture of her that Severus had taken on the day she’d brought her father’s camera.

Severus taped two of the scrapbook pages into a pocket, and put Lily’s letters inside. Then, he cut up a paper bag and taped the brown paper atop it as a book cover. He didn’t want Tobias or Eileen, or worse, other Hogwarts students, to realize exactly what he was carrying around. He looked around his room and sighed, bemoaning the fact that it was only January. What he’d give to be at King’s Cross right this minute.  
_____________________________

For all the months Severus had spent imagining this day, it’d never gone this well. Eileen was standing, spine straight, wand in hand, arguing with Tobias as Severus came downstairs.

“My son,” began Eileen, “is going to Hogwarts. He has magical ability, and it’s my alma mater.” 

“Come on, Eileen,” replied Tobias. “He’s only going to learn nonsense there and you know it. If he goes to the local secondary, he can join me working at the mill soon, and we can finally get out of this dump.” He waved his hands, encompassing the stained stove, cracked roof, and broken window. Tobias was, for now, too tired to be angry. Severus was thankful. An altercation right now could prevent him from going to Hogwarts entirely. 

“We’ll be back by noon, Toby.” Eileen softened, and walked over to give her husband a hug. “I promise.” 

Severus couldn’t bear to witness it. He turned his face to the wall. 

“Fine,” said Tobias, muffled. “Go get his supplies. But don’t expect any money from me for them.” He smirked.

“Come, Severus,” said Eileen, letting go of her husband and whisking them out the door. 

Severus waited until they were on the train to London to ask the obvious question. “Mother, where are we going to get money?”

“When I found I was pregnant,” replied Eileen, “my parents weren’t happy you were conceived out of wedlock. But at the time, they thought the father was a pureblood, who would propose within the next few weeks. So they set up an account in your name at Gringotts. It doesn’t have much, just a few hundred galleons now, so we will have to spend them wisely. But your father cannot stop you from going to Hogwarts.”

Severus fell silent for long moments, but unexpectedly, Eileen continued.

“When they found out your father was a Muggle, they tried to take the money back out, but it was under your name.” She paused. “They’re dead now.”

The rest of the ride was long and quiet.  
_________________________________

When they finally made it to Diagon Alley, it only got worse. Eileen’s first stop was the bank, where a sneering goblin, Ragnok, took Severus’ blood samples and gave him a key. 

“I see you are planning to withdraw from one of our… smaller accounts,” he said, leading them to a mine cart.

Severus opened his mouth to retort, but Eileen caught his eye seriously and shook her head. Then, they endured a horribly twisty journey to his vault. The door was approximately the size of a five-year-old child. It was lucky both he and his mother were slim, or they wouldn’t have fit through it. Eileen put some gold coins in a pouch and gave it to Severus, then they both exited the vault. “Finished?” asked Ragnok.

“Yes,” Severus replied. He was proud that he sounded firm and authoritative, despite having the same crawling feeling he had in Cokeworth, when people looked at him and mentally dismissed him as riffraff. They managed the ride back up, and spilled out into Diagon Alley proper. 

Eileen took them first to Madam Malkin’s, and got Severus changed into new (used, new to him) robes before his stomach began to growl.

“Hungry?” asked Eileen. Severus nodded. The two of them stopped to eat at the Leaky Cauldron. Eileen was almost a different person as she sat down, speaking familiarly to the bartender and casting a spell to quieten the noise from the rest of the patrons. She actually made conversation as they ate, even expressing interest when Severus began to tell her about a program he'd seen on TV. He was careful to eat slowly, not wanting their time to end. But as Severus was picking at the last of his potatoes, Eileen looked at her watch. “Merlin!” she exclaimed. “I told Tobias I’d be home by noon, I…”

Her face twisted in fear, and she was no longer the woman who’d stood up to Tobias Snape that morning. “I have to get back, I- can you handle the remaining shopping on your own? Ask anyone, they’ll show you where everything is-”

Severus felt angry, angrier than he’d ever been before, and abandoned. “Do I have a choice?”

“I’m sorry, I-“ Eileen paused for a moment and really looked at her son. “You don’t know how sorry I am.” Before Severus could reply, she was lost in the crowd. Severus paid for the food, and went outside. It was sunny and warm. Diagon was crawling with parents and their children. He ducked into a darker side alley and squatted on the ground, tried not to cry, and failed. 

___________________________________

Just as he’d stood up and almost stopped crying, carefully wiping the last of the tears away, he was accosted by a severe-looking witch. She stopped in front of him and squatted so they were of a height. She wore spectacles and her hair was pulled back into a tight bun. “Hello, child,” she said. “I am Minerva McGonagall. Is that a Hogwarts letter in your hand?” 

Severus tried to reply evenly. “Yes,” he said. His voice came out embarrassingly wobbly. Thankfully, Professor McGonagall pretended not to notice. 

“Where are your parents?” she asked. “A boy this young shouldn’t be alone in Knockturn Alley.”

“They were busy,” replied Severus, his composure returning. “And I can take care of myself.”

McGonagall smiled indulgently. “Well, then. What is your name?”

His irritation grew. He drew himself up to his full height. “I’m Severus Snape, from Cokeworth. So what, pray tell, is the Hogwarts Transfiguration professor doing so far from Hogwarts?”

“Oh!” she replied, surprised. “You know who I am?” 

Severus smirked, not intending to give away all his secrets. The truth was that a much younger version of the professor had made an appearance in some of his mother’s school photos, smiling with her Gryffindor friends.

“Well, Mr. Snape,” she began disapprovingly. “Follow me. I will escort you to Diagon Alley. You will not be needing anything from Knockturn, I should think.” She walked him to Flourish & Blotts and helped him find his transfiguration text before leaving. “I look forward to seeing you in my class, young man.” 

“Thank you, Professor.”

She nodded at him, and left the shop. Severus wandered around, finding all his schoolbooks- used, of course- and joining the long line for the payment counter. He refused to replace the new Transfiguration volume McGonagall had placed in his cauldron. It felt ungenerous. As he stood in line, another book caught his eye. Spells for Small Particles, was its title. Small particles, he thought. The smallest particle was the atom, more or less. Perhaps in the muggle world, this would be a book on nuclear technologies? He reached out and grabbed it from the shelf, flipping through it. His eyes widened as he took in the complex diagrams and equations within. The girl behind him in line snorted. “I see you, firstie. Still haven’t read A Beginner’s Guide To Wiping Your Own Arse and you’re ready to mess around with Arithmancy.” 

Severus turned around and glared. “Deirdre Fawcett,” the girl said, unperturbed. “Fifth year, Ravenclaw prefect. You?”

“Severus Snape. First year, obviously.” Fawcett, so she was a pureblood- from an old family, too.

“Hmm, Snape. So, half-blood or mud- um, muggleborn?”

“Pureblood,” Snape snapped. “Foreign.”

Deirdre burst out laughing. “Half-blood, then. You’ve got guts, kid. I bet you’ll sort Gryffindor.”

“I’ll sort Slytherin,” he said. He couldn’t fathom why he wanted to share this with her, but he was bursting with pride. “Just like my mother.”

She nodded in understanding. “Family ties are strong. That’s how I ended up in Ravenclaw.” She didn’t ask his mother’s name, though Severus could see she was dying to know. He gave her a temperate smile, appreciating her restraint.

___________________________________

He parted ways with Fawcett as they left the bookstore, after asking her for directions to the Apothecary. She waved him off with warnings not to get lost. Maybe sorting Ravenclaw wouldn’t be so bad after all, he surmised. On his way there (go past the ice cream place, left, third alley on the left, then immediately right) Severus felt somebody barrel right into him. He turned, reeling from the collision, ready to let whoever it was taste his ire, when all his breath left his lungs in a woosh. It was Lily, of course, with Petunia and her parents. He was abruptly grateful he’d already changed into robes. 

“Lily!” he exclaimed. 

“Severus!” she teased. “Sev, meet my parents. Mom, Dad, this is Sev!”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Evans,” he said automatically, shaking their hands. 

“If only you had manners like his, Lily,” joked Mr. Evans. “So, Severus, where are your parents?” He began to look around, as if expecting Eileen and Tobias to pop out from behind a hedge.

“They're- they're busy," he said nervously.

“Well, that’s no fun,” said Mrs. Evans. “Why don’t you join us? We can drive you back to Cokeworth too, no need to take the train.” 

Severus was tempted to say yes, Lily’s lovely face glowing, but there Petunia was behind her father, glaring at him.

“Yes,” he said, looking straight at Petunia. “It’d be my pleasure. Thank you for the kind offer, Mrs. Evans.”

“Yes, Sev!” Lily threw her arms around his neck in a sudden hug. Severus was shocked. He held her for a few seconds. She smelled like flowers. “I’m so excited I can barely hold it in!” she cried, releasing him. 

Much to Severus’ embarrassment, Lily already had everything except her books and potions kit, so most of the shopping remaining was his.

“I can find your books, Lily, it looks like a long line- the rest of you go finish up,” said Mr. Evans.

“Wait, dad-“ Petunia cut in. “Let me stay in the bookshop and help you.”

“Alright,” he replied. “If you’re sure you don’t want to go with the kids.”

“I’m sure.”

___________________________

Mrs. Evans redirected them, insisting they should start with the wand shop since Severus hadn’t yet gotten a wand. On the way, Lily excitedly showed him hers, a ten-inch affair of willow and unicorn hair. Mrs. Evans seemed charmed by the combination. Severus only hoped that he, too, would end up with unicorn and not a more objectionable core like dragon heartstring. Ollivander was looking rather haggard by now, closer to the end of the day than its beginning. “Welcome, Mr. Snape,” he said. “And welcome back, Evans family. I trust the wand - willow and unicorn hair, ten and a quarter inches - is still adequate?” 

“Yes, yes it is,” beamed Lily. “I love it.”

“A wand for Mr. Snape.”

Severus felt measuring tapes measuring his legs, arms, waist, and face. As they worked, Ollivander looked at him with a discomfiting, glassy gaze.

“Well, well,” he said. “Perhaps- a willow?” He began to shuffle around behind the counter. “Willow, Mr. Snape, is attracted to wizards with potential, yes. Willow and dragon heartstring, nine inches.” 

Severus swished. A window smashed behind the shelves. 

“No matter, no matter,” said Ollivander. “First tries, you know. Now, perhaps- perhaps too much power- maybe a unicorn core… ah, here we are. Walnut and unicorn, ten inches. A wand to suit any wizard with a razor-sharp mind.” 

Severus swished again. Nothing happened. Lily giggled. “So, you won’t be in Ravenclaw, will you, Mr. Sharp Mind?” 

Mrs. Evans stepped up and put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, now,” she said. “Lily tried ten wands before she found a match, didn’t you?”

Lily blushed. “Okay, yes, I did.”

“Heartstring for you, I think,” mumbled Ollivander. Severus’ palms began to sweat. “You can conduct power, Mr. Snape. Very well. A rare, but powerful choice - blackthorn and dragon heartstring. The heart of a warrior.”

Snape swished again, and several shelves exploded. Ollivander stared at him, hard. “I am missing something,” he said. He continued staring until even Mrs. Evans was shifting uncomfortably. He then went into the back again, emerging with a box. “Mr. Snape,” he said. 

“Yes?”

“I do not normally sell these wands to first-years. Why, you ask? They are made of hawthorn, and have a tendency to backfire when used incorrectly. However, if one of these is a match, it seems I may have no choice.”

Severus and Lily looked at each other nervously. Backfiring sounded bad. 

Ollivander held a wand out. “Nine and a half inches, hawthorn and dragon heartstring.” Severus took it from his hand, and swished it through the air- and the room lit up in silvery sparks. Ollivander, Mrs. Evans, and Lily looked delighted.

“Well done!” exclaimed Ollivander. “Well done, Mr. Snape! A first-year, taming hawthorn- why, I think the last wizard to do such a thing was the youngest head of the Department of Mysteries- incredible, truly incredible…but strange…”

He took the wand back from Severus, boxing it up. “Strange?” asked Mrs. Evans. “Why strange?”

“Hawthorn wands are contradictory, full of paradoxes- they perform well with both healing magic and curses, and they match those with…conflicted natures.” He peered at Severus, handing him the box. “And of course, I usually only sell them to fifth-years and above. Twelve galleons.” Severus paid, mumbled his thanks and they left the shop.

Mrs. Evans looked alarmed. “Severus, dear,” she said. “I don’t like all these warnings of backfiring and conflict. Listen, I went to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch, and they were saying there’s another wand shop just down the street- maybe we could look for something safer-“

“Leave it, mom!” said Lily. “It’s his wand now. I bet he already feels bonded to it, too. I feel bonded to mine.”

“Well, alright then. But you be careful with it, Severus, and be sure to tell your parents what happened.”

“I will, ma’am,” he replied.  
_______________________________

They made it through the Apothecary and Potions supply without incident, and stopped to purchase a lovely brown owl for Lily. When they made it back to Flourish & Blotts, Petunia and Mr. Evans were sitting at Fortescue’s next to a small pile of books, sharing a sundae. “All done?” asked Mr. Evans. The group murmured their assent, and finally relieved of their burdens, sat down and relaxed. 

Mr. Evans let Petunia work through the remainder of the sundae as he looked through the items his wife was dropping atop the books. “I can’t believe this is actual spleen,” he said, holding up a jar from Lily’s starter potions kit. 

“Da-aaad,” Lily groaned. “It’s a magic school. Ooh, can I have a sundae?”

“One scoop of strawberry ice cream for me,” added Mrs. Evans.

Florean heard their orders from the counter, and flashed them the thumbs-up sign.

“Okay, okay, let me go pay for those,” Mr. Evans said, laughing. “Severus, anything for you?”

Severus felt his money pouch. He was almost out, and certainly didn’t have enough for ice cream. Eileen had measured the withdrawal perfectly. “No, thank you,” said Severus.

Lily turned to stare at him. “What?” she asked. “You don’t like ice cream?”

Severus swallowed. “Um, I-“ 

Just then, Florean arrived to deliver the table’s orders. “What’s this I hear about not liking ice cream?” he joked. Lily was delighted to find an adult on her side, and immediately ratted Severus out.

Florean was standing over him now, speaking. “So why, then, young Snape, do you not like ice cream?” 

Severus felt his tongue tie, and his annoyance grow. “Um, I-“

Florean interrupted. “No child doesn’t like ice cream!” He laughed with the Evans parents and turned back to Severus. “Except this one, apparently! What a puzzle! Tell me why not, Mr. Snape.”

He felt his irritation bubbling just beneath the surface. Why were adults in the wizarding world all so bloody nosy- Mrs. Evans was a Muggle for Merlin’s sake, and she’d let the drama with the hawthorn wand go, so why were adults all so pushy-

Severus was standing on his chair, and speaking- yelling, before he even realized it. “I don’t dislike ice cream, I’ll eat a bloody cone to prove it if that’s what it takes, and I’d love some ice cream right now if I had any bleeding money to pay for it!” He felt horrified, as he came back to himself. His chest was heaving, and he could feel spots of color high on his cheeks. The entire Evans family was staring, and Florean had backed away a few steps. Some of the other patrons were even watching the outburst. He leapt off the chair before anyone could think to do anything, scooped up his bags, and ran away. He didn’t stop until he made it all the way to the train platform, and once he stopped panting, the self-loathing rose in his chest, dark and gnawing.

“Yes, I know,” he mumbled to himself. “I fucked up.”

At that moment, Severus Snape resolved to himself to get a handle on his emotions. He’d seen a boy, earlier, while buying robes. The boy was buying expensive, new Slytherin robes, and had long blonde hair. But what had really struck Severus about him was that when he turned around, his eyes were completely iced over- neutral and emotionless. That was what he needed to learn. No more outbursts, no more glaring at Tobias or whining over his mother. He would remain cold, and neutral. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t fit into the wizarding world, and if that happened- 

he wouldn’t fit in anywhere.

He covered his face with his hands. It had all been in front of Lily, too. Merlin.


	3. A Place of Turning

“Do not, for any reason, cross wands with Severus Snape without backup. When it comes to Dolohov and Bellatrix Lestrange, I believe you all will be cautious. Better wizards have fallen to those wands. Snape is a dark horse, but I assure you he is just as dangerous. Perhaps even more so- he equals Lestrange despite having much less experience.”

\- Kingsley Shacklebolt, to a team of Aurors, during the second war  
__________________________

Much to his chagrin, Severus wasn’t granted a moment’s respite to wallow in despair once he reached Spinner’s End. Tobias was arguing with Eileen, yet again, about dinner. Severus managed to make it upstairs without attracting notice, or so he thought- until Tobias yelled his name. “Severus! Get down here!”

Severus nearly jumped out of his skin. It was rare that his father even acknowledged his existence. He hurried downstairs, almost automatically. Tobias gripped his shoulder and leaned in, close enough that Severus could smell his breath. He wasn’t drunk. Severus winced. Tobias’ sober anger was much rarer, and much worse. 

“Did you get your frippery, boy? Bloody useless wand, just like your mother. Hat in hand, begging for mercy from those magic folk-” Tobias paused to deliver a truly impressive sneer. Severus felt like an insect on a pinboard, categorized and found wanting. “Snape men,” he said. “Snape men, that’s who we are. If you’d let go of your mother’s skirts, boy, you’d see that.” He let his son go, and began to pace. “You’re off to that magic school tomorrow, aren’t you? Off to wave a wand around like a pansy?”

Severus nodded in reply. His words were stuck in his throat. Tobias stopped pacing and turned to look at him, unexpectedly calm. His dark eyes were filled with an emotion Severus couldn’t place. Tobias then turned and picked up his jacket, heading for the door. His grip went white around the doorknob. Facing the door, he said the last thing Severus expected to hear. “I can’t stop you, can I?”

Severus finally found his voice. “No.” Inexplicably, he wanted to add “I’m sorry”. Something in Tobias’ tone tugged at him. But he said nothing else, and his father opened the door and walked away. The wind swung the door shut behind him, and Eileen turned to look at her son, her eyes imploring. It had been a long, unpleasant day. Severus gave her a deliberately flat look, and went upstairs, locking himself in his room. 

He exhaled with the snick of the lock, and began to pack his Hogwarts things. He smiled as he added several books about nuclear technology he’d smuggled out of the local library. Going to Hogwarts would mean losing his programs, but he could bring a piece of them with him.

He awoke the next morning to a growling stomach from missing dinner the night before. He dressed himself hurriedly, and dragged his Hogwarts trunk down the stairs to find his mother awake, sat before a tea setting. She looked at him through pale, tired eyes. “Your father hasn’t come home yet,” she said. “I was hoping he’d see you off.”

Something in Severus’ chest twisted. So that was it, then, the culmination of eleven long years spent in a house with the man. He knew he should be grateful for Tobias’ absence, as it would make his departure that much easier, but he still felt a strange regret, remembering the look on his father’s face. It wasn’t that he felt Tobias’ absence, particularly - it was more a mourning for what could have been, for the relationship with his father that he never had. He felt tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, and pressed his lips together tightly, shoving his mind forcefully away from thoughts of his father.

He imagined a nuclear bomb, the large, gray crayon-shaped metal vessel. Imagined it descending upon England, upon Spinner’s End, taking it all away. Tobias, the mill he worked at, his favorite bars- Eileen and her dusty, unused wand and old Hogwarts pictures- Cokeworth Primary, his teachers, his classmates- the TV shop, the park- and him, too. Dust to dust, in Spinner’s End from whence he came, the entire shoddy neighborhood and all its problems gone in the blink of an eye.

He was awoken from his imaginings by the sound of Eileen scraping her chair back. “It’s time to go,” she said. “You shouldn’t miss the train.”

Eileen called a cab to take them to Cokeworth station, an unusual indulgence on her part. Severus looked up at her, surprised. She was staring straight ahead, refusing to meet his eyes. “It’s a special day. Your first journey to Hogwarts.”

“Yes, mother,” replied Severus automatically. The cab ride, and train ride, was quiet. Eileen turned the walnut wand over and over in her hands, lost in memories. For his part, Severus was trying his hardest not to panic. He remembered, all at once, that he’d have to face the Evans family yet again at the station, a confrontation for which he found himself woefully unprepared. Boys at Cokeworth Primary would easily forget such a small spat, but he knew the Evans family, neatly dressed and well-presented, would not. As they got off the train at King’s Cross, Severus took out the last of his Muggle money. Eileen, completely uninterested, waited at Platform Nine with his trunk. 

Luckily for Severus, he was able to bargain with the man at the shop and buy one lily. He looked at it in consternation. It wasn’t nearly enough. He ducked quickly into a stall in the men’s bathrooms, and concentrated, hard. Suddenly, he found himself with an armful of lilies. Using the anti-notice chant he was so familiar with from the TV store, he managed to conceal the flowers from the seller and passerby as he made his way back to Eileen. “Ready?” she asked. “Yes,” replied Severus. They queued up to go through the barrier, and as Severus pushed his cart through, he emerged into a cacophony of noise. Families were hugging, kissing, crying, exchanging promises to write. Couples were reuniting on the train. In all the cacophony, the gray-clad, somber Snapes stood out like sore thumbs. 

One family in particular caught Severus’ eye, mostly because of the flame-red hair. Though he knew Mr. Evans and Petunia weren’t redheads, he still half-expected to see Lily among them. He moved closer to them, eavesdropping on the conversation. There were two couples, one older, one younger, and a pair of sixth or seventh years in Gryffindor robes. The young woman had her arms around the taller Gryffindor, admonishing and embracing him simultaneously.

“…Gideon, please try to keep Fabian out of trouble this year, and as for you, Fabian,” she released Gideon and turned to the other boy. “Fabian, you listen to me. Not one more Wronski Feint from you.”

“Molly,” laughed the shorter boy, “You’re beginning to sound like Mom!”

The older woman spoke up, then, bantering with her son. “Fabian Prewett! You know I’ve long since given up on telling you what to do.”

Not wanting to hear any more, Severus tugged Eileen towards the back of the platform. He intended to board after all the upper years, as most of the first years were still declaring goodbyes to their parents. The last thing he wanted to do was stand out.

He cursed his luck as they ended up right next to the Evans family in the crush. “Sev!” he heard Lily call. He tilted his face down, hiding his expression behind a curtain of hair. 

“Lily,” he replied, walking up to her. “I’m- about Diagon Alley, I-“ His face was heating quickly, and he could hardly bear to look at her. “And Mr, and Mrs. Evans, and Petunia, all of you, I-“ Feeling his resolve flagging, he thrust the bouquet into Lily’s arms and began to walk away. Had Severus looked back, then, he would have seen Mrs. Evans almost reaching out to him, and Mr. Evans catching her arm- and Mr. Evans’ eyes flicking between Severus and Eileen, and the slight, barely perceptible shake of his head.

But before the couple could stop her, their youngest daughter had run after the embarrassed boy. “Sev, wait!” said Lily. He stopped and turned to face her. “The flowers are beautiful! I love them! And it’s okay about yesterday, I shouldn’t have pushed, I’m sorry too- you believe me right, Sev?“

Severus’ chest twisted uncomfortably for the second time that day. “Of course I believe you, Lily.”

She smiled. “Okay, good! Will you sit with me on the train?” 

He nodded, somehow surprised, although he’d expected to sit with her- to find her alone in a compartment, to give her his flowers more gracefully. Lily beamed at him and ran back to her family, saying her goodbyes and collecting her trunk. She handed Mrs. Evans the bouquet, then removed a single flower and tucked it behind her left ear. Severus’ stomach somehow twisted even more.

Then she joined him, and they made their way to the Express. Severus climbed up first, carrying his trunk, then reached out his arms for Lily’s. As they boarded, he saw two boys snickering - one wore spectacles and had messy black hair, and the other was extremely handsome, with fine patrician features. He ignored them, and he and Lily went in search of a compartment. Once they had loaded their trunks, all that was left to do was gaze out the window at their respective families. Mr. and Mrs. Evans waved enthusiastically to Lily as Petunia pouted, and Lily waved just as enthusiastically back. 

Severus dragged his gaze from the Evans family to his own mother, who watched the train as if in a trance. She looked downright dingy with her frayed robe and wispy hair, but Severus raised a hand to wave to her anyway. She simply gazed at him in reply, her expression unreadable. Then the Hogwarts Express began to growl, and its gears began to turn, and the train left King’s Cross station. Lily and Severus settled back into their seats.

As they left London behind, Severus couldn’t quell the bubbling, fluttering hope that rose within him. Spinner’s End wouldn’t matter when he was at Hogwarts. Looking down at his mismatched clothes, he cringed. The Severus Snape that set foot in Hogwarts couldn’t be remembered wearing these rags. He pulled his robes from his bag, making his excuses to Lily and ducking into the men’s room to change. He walked back into the compartment with his spine straighter and his stride longer, enjoying the feeling of the robes sweeping behind him like a cape. Lily exclaimed at his new appearance, too, and he was relieved he’d changed early.

They passed the first hour of the train ride idly chatting and playing hangman’s noose. Severus was asking Lily if she’d looked at her school books yet when they the compartment door slide open. In the doorway stood the boys from before, the ones who’d snickered at him helping Lily with her trunk. “Hello,” said the messy-haired one. “I’m James Potter. Are you two first years too?”

Lily smiled at him. “Yes! Are you looking for a compartment?”

“No, Sirius and I have one, we just got bored.”

The other boy pushed the door open further, joining Potter in the doorframe. “Sirius Black, at your service.”

“I’m Lily Evans,” replied Lily, clearly excited to meet her yearmates. “And this is Severus Snape.”

“Hello,” said Severus.

“What kind of a name is Severus?” asked Black mockingly.

“What kind of a name is ‘serious’?” asked Snape, his tone completely flat.

A moment passed, and the four of them regarded each other awkwardly. Potter broke the silence with an easy charm, bringing up the topic foremost in every first-year’s mind. “So, Evans. have you thought about what house you want to be in?”

“I’m hoping for Ravenclaw! What about you?”

Potter re-angled himself in the doorframe. “Gryffindor, of course, like my dad.”

“Same for me,” interjected Black. “My whole family has been in Slytherin, but I’m hoping for Gryffindor. Slytherin is full of evil, stuck-up, inbred wankers.”

“Language, Black,” admonished Snape coldly. “Go Gryffindor if you’d rather be brawny than brainy-”

Black snickered. His eyes were hard and mean, glinting in the sunlight. “Where are you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?“ Potter burst into laughter.

Snape felt himself ice over in rage. “My family, too, has a Slytherin tradition. Unlike you, I intend to honor it. What must your parents think-”

Lily rose from her seat and interrupted, anger turning her cheeks red. She glared at Potter and Black. “Get out!” she yelled. “You clearly just came here just to be rude, so get out!”

Potter stopped laughing rather quickly, schooling his expression to be neutral. “Look, I’m sorry, Evans,” he said. “It was just a bit of fun.”

Black elbowed his friend companionably. “Come on, James, we can’t back down to smelly Snape here!” He grinned. “Maybe poor little Snapey won’t be sorted at all, and none of the houses will want him-“ 

Suddenly, Black cut himself off, looking wary. Severus had risen instinctually, and jammed the point of his wand into the other boy’s solar plexus. In response, Black resumed his taunting on a new tack, his voice soft. “What do you think you’re going to do with that, you greasy little freak?” He laughed. “You don’t know a single spell.”

Both Lily and Potter looked petrified, their faces frozen in shock. Severus, meanwhile, was imitating the exercise with the daisy, and visualizing a blow to the stomach. It would hit Black hard, knock him out of their compartment, he would understand that Severus Snape was not to be trifled with. Severus’ anger, his desire for violence crescendoed- and Black was blasted backwards, out of the doorway. 

“Sirius!” yelled Potter, running to his friend’s side. “What did you do to him?” he demanded of Severus.

For his part, Severus was shocked. He’d hardly expected that to work, and seeing Black slumped over and gasping for air was quite a shock. “I- I don’t know,” he replied, badly shaken. “I just wanted…” 

Potter’s eyes were wide with anger and desperation. He pulled out his wand. “Stupefy!” he yelled, pointing it at Severus, who was too stunned to move. “Stupefy!” A small stream of smoke issued from the tip. 

“Expelliarmus,” said a smooth, bored voice. The wand flew out of Potter’s hand, flying towards a boy with long blonde hair- the boy he’d seen at Madam Malkin’s, Severus realized. His eyes were gray, his expression cold. He was clearly aristocratic, standing with perfect poise and wearing green-edged robes. “What, exactly, is going on here?” the Slytherin asked, his lip curling. Panic and embarrassment turned Severus’ stomach.

Potter, noticing the Slytherin had a prefect badge, decided to cut his losses. “Just an accident,” he said. “Nothing, really.” Elbowing Black, he pulled the other boy to his feet, and they stumbled away. The prefect turned and looked at Severus and Lily. “Was Potter bothering you?” he asked. He addressed the question to both of them, but his eyes were on Severus.

Severus cast about for the right answer. Admitting Potter had been bothering them was a sign of weakness, but he didn’t want to admit to hexing Black, nor did he want to lie in Lily’s earshot. “Potter and Black were sharing some interesting opinions with us,” he replied. “Once Black collapsed, Potter attempted to attack me.” He was satisfied with his answer. Nothing Lily could object to, and sufficiently vague to gloss over why, exactly Black had collapsed. 

He and the prefect stared each other down, gray eyes sharp and piercing and black ones flat and emotionless. The prefect’s lips pulled into a smirk. “I am Lucius Malfoy,” he said. “Fifth-year.”

“Lily Evans,” said Severus, gesturing to his friend, “and Severus Snape. First years.”

“Snape, hmm? Interesting. Do keep the chaos to a minimum for the remainder of the ride.” His eyes swept over Severus, giving him a once-over, then he turned neatly and strode away. Severus exhaled in relief. His mother had warned him about the older pureblood families, but he thought he’d handled himself well enough.

Lily piped up, just then, as he closed the compartment door. “Why’d you lie to that prefect, Sev? They were bothering us, and were rude, too.”

Severus sighed, dropping his emotionless mask and displaying his apprehension to Lily. “I didn’t want to seem weak. And starting at Hogwarts with a reputation as a tattle-tale would be less than ideal.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Starting Hogwarts with a reputation for violence would be worse! And someone needs to know those boys are being rude.”

“Technically, I was the only one who actually broke a rule.”

Spots of color appeared high on Lily’s cheeks. “That’s just not fair!”

“Rarely is life fair, Lily,” he sighed. 

Taking in the look on her friend’s face, she chose to drop the subject. “I hope Black is okay, though,” she continued. “What you did was a little… well, scary.”

“I was barely aware I was doing it,” admitted Severus. He was begging for absolution, and knew Lily knew it, too. “I was just so angry, and the magic just- just flowed out of me, somehow. I only meant to push him out of the compartment, not hit him that hard.”

Lily smiled comfortingly, granting him her mercy. “I know it was an accident, don’t worry. He’ll be fine.”

They sat in silence for a while, their thoughts drifting. Lily stirred as students began drifting down the corridor, robes in hand. “Sev, I think we’re almost there, I’m going to go change.”

Severus looked up, distracted by his own thoughts. “Yes, all right.” 

When Lily returned in her robes, she pulled a small brown pouch out of her trunk. It was marked Gerard’s Genuine Gizmos - Diagon Alley. She reached into it, pulling out a small camera. “Look, my parents bought me a magical camera so I can show them what Hogwarts is like! Let’s take a picture now that we’re both wearing our robes. Actually, let’s take two! That way, we can both have one.”

Loath as he was to immortalize his unkempt hair and anxious countenance, he sat next to Lily and did his best to smile as the timer counted down, 3-2-1, and their photo was taken, twice. Lily was delighted, and Severus could see why- she was lovely, beaming in her new robes, her red hair and green eyes glinting attractively in pink sunset-rays. Severus’ sallow skin and lank hair made him look like her oversized pet bat. The camera had captured a short loop - Lily was smiling with her usual cheer and Severus was looking out the window. She nudged him, and he turned to look at the camera, lips stretching into his approximation of her perfect smile. Gazing at photo-Lily, he carefully tucked the photo into his trunk. Just then, a yellow-clad prefect appeared at the door. “We’re offboarding soon, firsties,” he said. “Leave your trunks, you’ll find them in the dorms. Get out when the train stops, and follow Hagrid. He’s the tall man holding a lantern.” Without waiting for a reply, he left. The two friends grinned in excitement.

When the train finally stopped, Severus and Lily spilled out onto the platform among a crowd of other students. A booming voice echoed over the crowd. “Firsties, follow me! All first-years, this way!”

The cluster of first-years gathered at the edge of a lake, unsure and chattering amongst themselves. A wave of alarm rippled through the crowd as boats began to appear on the edge of the lake, each equipped with a lantern but without oars. “Four students per boat!” yelled the voice. Severus turned, and finally got a look at the speaker, Hagrid. He was very tall, and very wide. 

“Cor, that’s Hagrid, is it?” he heard from behind him. “I heard he was half-giant.”

“I heard the Ministry banned him from doing magic, and snapped his wand,” someone added. “D’you think he’s dangerous?”

Severus looked at Hagrid critically. He seemed jovial enough, but there was his physical size to consider. Severus reassured himself with the thought that there wasn’t much Hagrid could do without a wand. 

As the first wave of students took off from the shore, Severus and Lily found themselves in the next wave boarding the boats. They scrambled into an empty boat, and were joined by a pair of nervous-looking twins. They had not a moment for introductions, as the boat immediately set off towards the great castle in the distance. As they drifted over the lake, the first-years were silent, craning their heads to see the lovely nighttime view of the lit castle against a backdrop of stars. The lanterns on the boats gave the entire affair a ceremonial glow.

A water crossing rife with symbolism- Severus immediately thought of the river Styx. His muggle life was dead and gone now, Cokeworth Primary and Michael Weston and all the rest of it, and he’d paid the fee of entry to Hogwarts, in magic and in galleons, and sitting alone in a boat bringing up the rear was his very own half-giant Charon. The other side of the river, just a castle and a field of stars.

This was it, he thought wildly. Hogwarts was the afterlife, and this was it- but that was a silly thing to think, for death is a place of turning, and this was a place of turning, so it didn’t really matter whether it was death or not. And the Muggle world was still there, beyond the river and across the hills, but it’d never be the same. He’d be like the dead watching the living, if he returned, within and without all at once. He half-turned, seeking Lily, hoping she could quell the swirling mix of anticipation and dread within him. But he saw her face, open and wondering, marveling at the castle with no hint of anxiety or alarm. 

He gritted his teeth, bracing against his own self-loathing. “Doom and gloom, Snape,” Weston had said to him once, when he’d been in an unusually talkative mood. “That’s why it’s so hard to talk to you. You see the worst bits of everything somehow.”

When their boat finally reached the opposite shore, Lily, Severus, and the twins disembarked. They joined the silent procession of first years walking up to the castle. Now that the initial wonder had worn off, it seemed less of a religious rite and more of a funeral march. Some first-years audacious enough to talk were whispering about the horrors of the sorting- a trail by battle for Gryffindor, evading an unsuspected poisoning attempt for Slytherin, a series of riddles for Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff if you failed all the rest. Severus wasn’t worried - whatever the sorting was, if that prick Black came through it alive, so would he.

Another few brave first-years were airing everyone’s main concern. Whispered complaints of hunger echoed throughout the crowd as they came to a stop in a small room. Once the final students had entered, Professor McGonagall followed them inside and shut the door. Her Scottish brogue rang out over the whispers, sharp and clear. “Silence, if you please,” she began. The students quieted. “My name is Minerva McGonagall. I am the Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am here to prepare you for your sorting ceremony. We have four houses at Hogwarts, each known for different qualities. While you are a student here, you will eat, sleep, and take classes with members of your own house. Now, I will call your names from the Great Hall, which is just beyond the door to my left. When I call your name, you will come downstairs and walk out to the hall promptly, and take a seat on the brown stool, which will be straight ahead of you. Any questions?”

As it turned out, there were a great many questions. The professor called on a heavy-set blonde boy, who asked if it was true they’d have to cut a head off of the Hogwarts Hydra to be sorted. McGonagall exhaled through her nose, looking amused. “Mr. Stebbins, to my knowledge Hogwarts has never kept nor ever plans to keep a school hydra.” She looked pointedly at the rest of the students. “Does anyone have any questions regarding what to do when their name is called?” A few students began to raise their hands, but noticing the Professor’s expression, lowered them again. “Good,” said McGonagall. “We will begin the sorting.” She left, and before long, they heard her call the first name. “Abbott, Michael!”

The first-years parted before Abbott, clearing the path to the door. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and walked down the path they’d cleared for him with the air of a man bravely facing his own death. Once he was out of sight, everyone clustered together even more, as if by staying close they could avoid Abbott’s fate. After a few moments, they heard a yell of “Ravenclaw!” followed by cheers.

The next name was called, and the next. Severus found he was quite tired, and tried not to doze off. “Black, Sirius” was sorted Gryffindor, of course, and then came the next name Severus recognized. “Evans, Lily!” He turned to his friend and smiled. “Good luck,” he said. She smiled back nervously and descended the stairs. “Gryffindor!” came the shout, and Severus scowled. Lily was brave, he supposed. But if he sorted Slytherin, maintaining their friendship would become an uphill battle. The call of “Fawcett, Ariadne!” pulled him from his musings. He wondered momentarily if Fawcett, Ariadne was a relation of the Fawcett prefect he’d met at Flourish & Blotts. 

The number of students was decreasing quickly. There was now enough room for Severus to practice gymnastics comfortably, had he wished to. Potter was certainly making use of the extra space- he’d spent the last half hour pacing from wall to wall, whispering “Gryffindor” under his breath. The combination of boredom and anticipation created a strange atmosphere. Some students were simply sitting on the floor watching Potter pace. Others had their faces hidden in their robes. One boy in the corner was actually asleep. The friend sitting next to him assured everyone expressing concern that yes, Zukovski was okay, he just didn’t handle hunger well. When the friend was called (Osborne, Mary, Hufflepuff), she woke the boy up before leaving, hissing at him to stay awake until his name was called. She looked around at the room, seemed to decide they were all too unreliable to look after Zukovski, and left. Sure enough, the moment the door shut behind her, he turned over and snuggled back into his cloak. Nobody stopped him.

Severus finally sat down, tilting his head back to rest against the wall. Potter, James was sorted Gryffindor as he hoped, right after Pettigrew, Peter. All the tension had left the waiting room now. A girl was trying to follow Zukovski’s example, but kept flopping around on the floor, searching for a comfortable position. Two others were playing an impromptu chess game on the floor, created from the odds and ends in their pockets. Severus watched them play, when suddenly, “Snape, Severus,” was called. He looked around the room for support, but nobody seemed to realize he’d stood up. Mentally shrugging, he descended to the Great Hall.

Great was truly the right word for it. The ceiling was enchanted to reveal the stars, something Severus particularly appreciated. The hall itself was a grand affair of stained glass, stone, and candle-lit chandeliers. As he sat down on the stool, he looked out at the four House tables as Professor McGonagall placed the hat on his head. He nearly fell off when he heard a voice in his head. 

“You want Slytherin? You’re not insisting, you know. Most first-years insist on a certain house. Oh, yes, I agree, not Gryffindor. Hufflepuff wouldn’t suit you either, though you don’t seem to care one way or another. You’d do well as a Ravenclaw, but you wouldn’t be satisfied, I think- seems you were right, we’ll go with SLYTHERIN!”

McGonagall removed the hat from his head and the green-and-silver table burst into applause. Severus walked towards the table and sat down with the other first-year boys, glancing at the Gryffindor table. Lily was giving him a worried look. He wanted to gesture to her that he was all right, but the boy to his right introduced himself as Evan Rosier, and then a prefect hushed them. They turned back to the sorting. Wilkes, Thomas joined Severus and Rosier, and they continued to wait until McGonagall reached the final name. “Our last student to be sorted, Zukovski, Yuri!” 

There was a sudden hush in the hall. McGonagall paused for a long moment. At each house table, the first-years were snickering. Zukovski’s friend, the Osborne girl, pressed her face into her hands. The professor then walked to the door, and yelled up the stairs, “ZUKOVSKI!” Hearing no response, she strode back to her seat. 

In reply, Dumbledore rose from his chair and addressed the school. “To all our first-years,” he began mildly. “We would all like to get the feast started. If this is some sort of prank, I implore the perpetrators to confess. You will not face repercussions, as school has not yet begun.” He twinkled at each house table in turn. When he got to Hufflepuff, Osmond stood up. “It’s not a prank, Headmaster, I swear, he just fell asleep! I was trying to keep him awake! I was hoping the other first-years would wake him up, after I was sorted, but…” she trailed off, glaring at Yarrick and Yuhara in Ravenclaw. Severus supposed that was the best she could do. The following Z-names had sorted Gryffindor or Slytherin, and the Ravenclaw table separated them from Hufflepuff.

Dumbledore favored Oswald with an indulgent smile. “Thank you, Miss Oswald. Would you accompany me to awaken young Mr. Zukovski?” As soon as the door shut behind them, the giggles began anew. The first-years were subject to many disapproving looks from the staff table.

Zukovski came down at last, rubbing his eyes and grumbling in a harsh-sounding language. He was sorted Slytherin, and the feast began. Severus fielded a number of pointed questions about his heritage. The strategy he decided on was to play his cards close to the chest. When the other Slytherins delicately probed, asking leading questions about his home life, he answered as vaguely as possible, being sure not to mention anything Muggle. He was still unsure what his status would be as a half-Muggle half-Prince. Had he been half-Malfoy, or half-Flint, there would have been no question of acceptance within Slytherin house. But while the Princes were proud purebloods, they were not members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. 

Avery and Mulciber, a pair of pureblood second-years, took the lead in Severus’ interrogation, asking him pointed questions as quickly as he could answer them. Then Lucius Malfoy rose from his seat and walked down to the firsties’ end of the table. He sat down next to Zukovski, across from Severus and Rosier. “Snape,” he said. “An impressive hex you pulled off, on the train.” 

“Thank you,” replied Severus. Avery and Mulciber immediately sat back and fell silent. Lucius smirked, and his smirk twisted into a smile. 

“Congratulations on sorting Slytherin,” he said. “And welcome to our House. I think it will suit you.” Hesitantly, Severus smiled back.


	4. Chapter 4

"Uncle Sev was... he was my godfather, and we held some affection for one another. He'd watch me sometimes when I was young, taught me to prepare potions ingredients. At some point, he and Father argued- I don't know why- and I didn't see him again until I went to Hogwarts. As you know, Mother felt she could ask him to protect me in sixth year. She told me that before they fell out, the three of them were very close. I regret not knowing him better- I suspect my wartime decisions would have been quite different if I had. But as a child, that's not the sort of thing you have a lot of control over..."

\- Draco Malfoy, relaying memories of Severus Snape to the Golden Trio, a few months after the final battle.  
_______________

Severus awoke the next morning to a ringing bell. He groaned and scooted to the edge of the bed, peeking past the edge of the hangings. Upon Rosier’s nightstand was a little golden bell, which physically jumped into the air and shook itself every few seconds. A hand reached out from behind Rosier’s curtains and swept the bell off the nightstand. It hit the floor and smashed. With that, all the boys in Severus’ room were waking up and pulling back their hangings. He watched in fascination as the pieces of bell on the floor rose back up to the top of the nightstand and re-formed, the bell now quiet and looking as if it had never been smashed at all.

Rosier noticed him watching the shards’ journey, and caught his eye, grinning. “Nice, isn’t it?” he said. “My father bought it as a going-away present for Hogwarts, since I won’t have any house-elves here to wake me in the mornings.”

“It’s nice,” Severus replied, for once truly in earnest. “How does the charm work? Is it a time-loop? Actually, maybe a transfiguration?” 

“No idea,” said Rosier. “You’d better get ready, or you’ll be late for breakfast.”

In the end, all four of them were on time. Severus’ other roommates were Wilkes and Zukovski - he supposed they were placed together simply by virtue of having last names near the end of the alphabet. They sat down on the end of the table closest to the staff. The unspoken hierarchy in every house stated that seats closer to the staff were left for younger years, and the desirable real estate on the opposite ends were dominated by higher years and prefects. Severus caught a glimpse of Lucius Malfoy holding court there, spinning his butterknife between his fingers as he spoke to a sixth-year.

Breakfast itself was chaos and cacophony, owls screeching and landing haphazardly among plates and glasses. Naturally, they were concentrated on the first-year ends of the tables - doubtless parents anxious to know how their children had sorted. The owls competed for attention with the heads of house, who were walking down each table handing out class schedules. Slughorn stopped by their small group and plastered on a phony smile. “Oh, first-years! I do remember my first year at Hogwarts ever so fondly, you know. Wilkes, Rosier, Snape- and ah, yes, our resident foreigner! Now, if you have any questions-”

Interruption arrived in the form of an owl landing in Zukovski’s cereal, spraying the professor with milk. “Oh, dear me,” he said. “You really must excuse me.“ With that, he left them alone with their schedules. 

“What a clumsy owl,” said Wilkes scornfully. “Can’t your family buy a better one?”

“He is a Slytherin owl,” replied Zukovski in a heavy accent. “He is sly. I did not want to listen to the fat man’s blather.” Zukovski used his napkin to pat the owl clean, and untied the letter. Halfway through Severus’ plate, owls arrived from Wilkes’ and Rosier’s families as well. 

“Where’s your letter?” Rosier asked. 

“My family is aware I know what information they will want,” replied Severus. “I will send them a letter today after classes.” He truly planned to do so - he felt Eileen, at least, would enjoy the news in her understated way. Wanting to forestall any further conversation on the topic, he rose, shouldering his bag. “I’ll see you in class,” he said, and made for the moving staircases. Disembarking on the third floor, he rounded a corner and ran into Fawcett, the prefect from Flourish & Blotts. She smiled down at him. “Hey, it’s you! The first year trying to buy arithmancy books! So you sorted Slytherin, huh? Congratulations.” There was a small pack of Ravenclaw first-years behind her. 

“Thank you.”

“Your first class is Charms, then, Slytherin and Ravenclaw first-years have it together. I’m walking this lot up,” she said, gesturing to the other children. “Care to join us?”

“All right,” replied Severus. 

He followed Fawcett obediently, blending into the crowd of blue robes. “You know Fawcett?” asked a girl. Severus turned to look at her. She was very pale, with long black hair and a smattering of freckles. “I met her at Flourish & Blotts,“ he replied.

“My parents ordered my books by owl,” she said, scowling. “Diagon Alley sounds like so much fun! Were you really trying to buy arithmancy books? I’m not allowed to have them until I learn to write numerological proofs, according to Dad. He’s an Arithmancer, so he thinks he knows everything.”

“Numerological proofs? What class is that in?”

“Charms, I think. Look, could I borrow that book? All the others are in the restricted section, I checked this morning.”

“I didn’t buy it, sorry. Fawcett advised against it while we were in line.”

The girl sighed, shifting her bag to her other shoulder. “Oh, well.” 

They were on yet another staircase, moving downwards. It would stop from time to time in midair, and Fawcett would hit the side to resume its motion. The two of them stood in awkward silence. “I’m Morrigan Yarrick,” she said, breaking it. “Nice to meet you.”

“Severus Snape,” he replied. “Likewise.” 

At last, Fawcett dropped the group off at the Charms classroom. True Ravenclaws, they had arrived fifteen minutes before class actually started. The entire group was pulling their Charms texts out of their bags, reviewing the first chapter. Severus, who had fallen asleep quickly last night before as much as cracking the spine, hastily followed suit. It was there that Lucius found him, when he arrived with the other first-year Slytherins in tow. 

“Snape,” he said. “We thought you had gotten lost.”

“My apologies,” Severus replied. “Luckily, I didn’t.” Cold gray eyes held his gaze, then shifted back towards his yearmates. 

“Here’s the Charms classroom,” said Lucius. “Don’t try to show off. Most likely, you will not be earning house points in class until after Christmas. For now, we will be pleasantly surprised if you manage not to lose them.” With that, he walked away, and the Slytherin first-years, appropriately cowed, pulled out their Charms texts as well. 

Class itself began smoothly enough. Yarrick earned five points from Flitwick for being the first to levitate her feather steadily, and smirked at Severus, who was the second to master the spell. Of Severus’ housemates, Wilkes was doing a particularly awful job. Any feather he cast on would zoom upwards with the speed of a bullet, hit the ceiling, and fall. “I’m sorry, Professor,” Severus heard him saying to Flitwick. “I am trying, it’s just Ollivander said my wand would have trouble with very delicate charmwork-“

Flitwick cut him off with a stern look. “Levitating a feather is hardly _delicate_ , Mr. Wilkes. I suggest you attend my office hours.” 

Severus found himself steeped in boredom. Levitate a feather, indeed. It was clear a good portion of the class had the spell down pat within fifteen minutes, while Flitwick continued to help the others. Everyone was busy finding ways to amuse themselves, trying variations of the spell or passing notes to their friends. Rosier was continuously levitating his black-silver quill into collisions with the quill of the Ravenclaw across from him. The other boy looked quite annoyed, allowing Rosier to goad him into a quill fight. Flitwick noticed the scene, but did nothing, presumably because both boys were still using _Wingardium Leviosa_.

Watching the fight gave Severus an idea. He closed his charms text and attempted to levitate that with the same spell. He swished and flicked, and the book rose slightly- and then thumped back down onto the table. Frowning, he tried again, flicking with more force. The book rose slightly higher, and fell with an even louder thump. Severus thought for a minute. It seemed harder flicks were able to propel the book higher, though it wouldn’t stay in the air. If he got it high enough in the air, perhaps the spell would have enough time to take, as the book came down. Severus swished and flicked hard, drawing the end of the flick all the way to the top of his head, and sure enough, the book went up- and down, right into his face. 

Flitwick had been pointedly ignoring the thumping sounds of the heavy Charms volume, but the giggling around Severus’ seat drew his attention. He walked over, aiming his wand at Severus’ nose. Severus jerked back. “Episkey,” incanted the Professor, and his face stopped hurting. “The way to levitate heavier objects, Mr. Snape,” he instructed reproachfully, “is to use a larger swish to accommodate the object’s mass, and a slower flick- really just a slow raise of your wand- to ensure you levitate it _safely_. I will not take points from Slytherin house this time, but any more of this tomfoolery in my classroom and I will.”

Wilkes smiled at Severus in sympathy and patted him on the shoulder. “It’s all right, Snape,” he said. “Professor Flitwick told me the same thing when my quill almost took out his eye.” He was surprised by the quick sympathy. He’d been expecting dirty looks, insults, snide commentary. Not this sort of- camaraderie, he supposed. 

“Thanks,” he replied.

Still ruminating on Slytherin’s unexpected fellowship, Severus was confronted after class with yet another example of it, though this one seemed to be common to all the houses. Dana Flint, the other Slytherin prefect, was waiting outside to take them to their next class, potions with the Gryffindors. Zukovski narrowed his eyes upon seeing her, and said, “This feels like surveillance. I do not like it.”

Flint laughed. “Fifth-year prefects always get the arse jobs,” she said. “It is surveillance. We can’t allow you firsties to skive off classes for the first couple days, at least. Even so, are you telling me you want to tackle the moving staircases on your own?”

“I would manage,” replied Zukovski haughtily. Flint acted as if she hadn’t even heard him, performing a quick headcount under her breath. 

“Everyone’s here,” she said. “Let’s go.”

The Slytherin caravan arrived at the dungeons, Flint leaving them with an admonishment not to lose points. They filed into the classroom. Seeing that the desks were arranged for partners, everyone began to hastily pair off. Severus hated these types of social games more than anything else - they were the games he’d always lost out on in Cokeworth, having been antisocial and seen as creepy. Arranging his cauldron and vials on an empty desk, he prayed there would be odd numbers. 

At that moment, the Gryffindor caravan arrived, red robes pouring into the potions classroom. Spotting Lily among the crowd, Severus smiled at her tentatively. She smiled back and began to make her way over, when another Gryffindor girl caught her sleeve and whispered to her. The scraping sound next to Severus indicated his moment of opportunity had passed, and Zukovski had joined him at his potions bench. Lily turned again and sent him a knowing smile, before settling down next to her housemate. A few rows behind her were sat Potter and Black, eyeing Severus and whispering to one another. 

Potions was less eventful than Charms, other than Potter and Black’s constant whispers. Slughorn was annoyed enough to dock points from Gryffindor, which cheered Severus considerably, and when Malfoy returned to pick them up from potions, their next stop was to be lunch. This meant, of course, that the Gryffindors and Slytherins were going the same way. Severus angled himself and fell back so he would end up next to Lily. “Hey,” he said. 

“Hey yourself,” she replied. “I’ve been really worried about you, Sev.”

“Worried? Why?”

“I’ve heard some things, about Malfoy, and about Slytherin, and… well, this isn’t the time to discuss it. Will you meet me after dinner?”

He quickly agreed, worried about his friend in turn, now.  
__________________________

Flint had marching orders for after lunch, and sure enough, she took them to Transfiguration. “Hey, look,” Rosier said, watching the cat sitting on the teacher’s desk. “Someone’s lost their pet. Wow, imagine losing your new pet on the first day of classes. Do you think, if I took it, I could get a ransom?” 

Wilkes tilted his head consideringly. “Maaaaybe,” he said, drawing out the vowels. “Cats aren’t worth it, really. You’d want to kidnap an owl or something. Anyone can pick up a free cat right off the street. But owls trained to deliver mail? That’s worth something.”

Once all the students were seated, the cat leaped off the desk and transformed into Professor McGonagall. Severus’ jaw dropped. It was an incredible display of magic, and the room was suddenly clamoring with questions, with the exception of Rosier. Rosier had gone pale, realizing he’d considered demanding ransom for _Professor McGonagall_. Now in human form, she stood in front of her desk in silence until the room had gone quiet. Meeting Severus’ eyes, she nodded slightly in recognition, and he nodded back. 

“That,” she began, “is the Animagus transformation. It is an extremely advanced form of transfiguration, and extremely rare. This type of magic is capable of turning a person into an animal, yet allowing the person to retain his or her own mind. Animagi are undetectable except by one very specific spell, which is capable of forcing an Animagus into human form. For this reason, all Animagi are required to register with the Ministry of Magic.”

“Some forms are more useful than others,” she continued, “but I find myself privy to the most _interesting_ conversations as a cat.” At this, she looked pointedly at Rosier, who paled further.

“Today, we will be starting with basic Transfiguration - this will give you a solid core of knowledge, if someday you do decide to attempt the Animagus transformation.”

By the end of the period, most of the class had rather silvery matchsticks. McGonagall set them an essay and an assignment to complete the needle transfiguration by the end of the week, which left the students groaning. 

After class, Severus made his way back to the common room. The first-years began a match of Exploding Snap, explaining the rules to Zukovski. 

"They don't have this game in Russia?" asked Rosier curiously.

"We have card games where I am from," replied Zukovski. He was adapting to English quickly, yet retained a slight accent. "But the cards do not explode."

Severus watched them play, feeling quite out of place. He'd never been good at making friends, and trying to join this unfamiliar game seemed a daunting task. He imagined himself sitting down with them, laughing at each explosion, and considered it, for a brief, bright moment. But he could not make his feet move, and the moment passed. 

Sporting slightly singed hands, the Slytherin first-years made it down to dinner. Afterwards, Severus met Lily, a smile spreading across his face for the first time since she'd left to be Sorted. She smiled back hesitantly, fidgeting with the sleeve of her robe. The two of them walked out towards the lake, and she began to speak. 

"I got a note from Tuney at breakfast," she said. "She hates me!" Lily turned to face her friend, green eyes suspiciously watery. 

"Wait, Lily, what?" asked Severus. "I'm sure she doesn't hate you, siblings fight sometimes, it's-"

"A few days before we went to get my school supplies, she called me a freak. And she said that- that I should go away, to my witch school, so that normal people would be safe from me. The days after that were really bad, but I thought once I was gone, she'd forgive me and we'd stop fighting, but... the letter... it was all the same stuff, Sev. It was awful."

Severus felt his heart wrench as he saw a tear drop from the corner of Lily's eye. 

"I can't even tell the Gryffindor girls about it, you know- I told Alice, Alice Fortescue, she's my roommate, and I swore her to secrecy. But she just thinks I should never speak to Tuney again! She said muggles would always be jealous of wizards, and that's why so many were burned at the stake, and I should stay far away from Tuney or one day I'd find myself burning at a stake too- Sev, it was horrible! She's still my sister..."

"She is," replied Severus quietly. He thought back to that feeling of death and rebirth he'd had, crossing the Black Lake for the first time.

"Alice doesn't seem like a bad person. How could she even say that?" 

With that, Severus knew Lily wouldn't understand the thoughts he'd had on the lake that night. To her, coming to Hogwarts was simple novelty. She didn't realize what she was giving up by attending, didn't yet see there would always be a little more distance between her and her muggle family now. "Lily," he began. "Don't you see? Your sister is still jealous, after all these years. Those things she said- none of them are true. And none of that is your fault. I know you. You're kind and thoughtful and you'd never hurt anyone, I know that."

"B-but what if she's right? And I am a freak?"

"What if I called your sister a freak, because she couldn't do magic? Magic is normal in this world."

"I wouldn't let you- oh, so she shouldn't call me that either. I guess you're right."

Severus smiled, grateful his friend was quick on the uptake. "Never let anyone talk down to you," he said. "You're the kindest person I know. And as for Fortescue, if she comments on it again, tell her to mind her own business."

"I didn't realize how hard this would be, Sev."

He reached out and took Lily's hand in his own, his cheeks reddening slightly. "You're not alone," he promised. "We'll do it together."

"I hope you mean that."

"Why wouldn't I?" He dropped her hand, perturbed.

"I've heard some things- about your house, that you don't like muggle-borns. I half thought you hated me already, the way the girls were going on about it. I'm really worried about you, too. Do they pick on you for being a half-blood?"

"Twenty-four hours aren't going to change my mind about our friendship-"

"No, I know, I just wanted to... make sure, really. Just reassure myself."

"As to your second question, they don't pick on me, no. My wizarding half is as pure the Blacks, and the majority of purebloods even accept half-bloods in the family tree so they're not as inbred."

Lily made a face. "That's such a gross way to think about marriage!"

Severus laughed. "That's pureblood society for you. Breeding their children like livestock."

"That's all I wanted to make sure of, honestly- I was so worried, earlier, that you'd hate me or something bad would happen to you."

"We'll be all right." At that, Lily smiled at him with such trust that he felt his heart would split in two. He vowed, silently, he'd do everything possible to keep that promise.

When he reached the dorms that night, he tucked his newest photo between the pages of the gifted scrapbook- Lily, kneeling by the lake, trying to get a look at the giant squid.


	5. Chapter 5

"I don't think Severus has ever believed in an ideal- for all he pretends he is a man of the mind, he is truly a man of the heart, deeply personal and loyal. He joined the Death Eaters for his friendships within Slytherin, and he left for Lily Potter. He would be someone quite different, I think, had he grown to view the world in its entirety, established firm beliefs beyond the bindings of the heart."  
\- Albus Dumbledore to Kingsley Shacklebolt, private discussion after Order meeting  
___________________________________

Nearly two months had passed since that fateful sorting, and as the first-years fought and learned and tested the limits of their newfound freedom, life began to settle into a schedule. Severus hadn't done much better at making friends- the only peers he really spoke to outside of class were Rosier (he was excessively sociable), Yarrick (who'd become his study partner), and of course, Lily. Despite leaving the muggle world behind, Severus he had just as much free time at Hogwarts. More, in fact, because he no longer had to take care of his mother. 

Severus filled his time mostly with learning extra magic. Yarrick had, one evening, kept him in the library until their section had emptied out. Then she'd asked him, in whispers, if he would want to learn darker curses with her. "I tried asking the other 'Claws," she'd said, "but they're either horrified that it's dark, or don't want to learn it because they won't be tested on it. But I want to win on the international dueling circuit, and they don't really separate dark and light magic in Asia- they learn it all. Which means I have to learn it all. Also, you have to keep it a secret. Obviously."

"Isn't Flitwick a dueling champion? I doubt he used dark magic."

"Yes, but he won when the competition was only Europe-wide. The Wand of Nimue and the Sülde Tngri Trial, the only major singles dueling tournaments, had different standards and rules for the longest time. You could only really compete on one circuit. They settled on a universal set of rules about twenty years after Flitwick won Nimue, and now the finalists from each circuit are invited to the International Dueling Championship."

"Very well, then, let's study it together. It's hard to practice curses without a living target, I suppose," he'd added wryly. To top off their deal, she'd insisted on first names (Morrigan? he'd asked- apparently a traditional name on her mother's side), and then they shook on it.

When he wasn't in the library with the Ravenclaw, Severus was wandering about the grounds, finding comfortable spots in which to read the books he'd brought from home. His old obsession with space and nuclear technology was making a comeback as he grew accustomed to magic. It gave him pause for thought. Mass manufacturing, really, was the cornerstone of muggle society. That's what gave them such an advance in destructive power so quickly. But all things came at a cost, he supposed. Mass manufacturing was certainly part of the reason Tobias Snape was the way he was. Soulless job at local mill, paid hourly. No overtime, no promotion, no ownership, apply within. Wizards were different, he mused. Everything from his wand to his robes to his trunk was artisan-made. The closest the wizarding world got to mass-manufacture seemed to be Quidditch regalia, of all things. The wizarding world was small. It wouldn't be worth the overhead to set up, say, Madam Malkin's sweatshop- but evidently, one could always count on rabid Quidditch fans buying as much paraphernalia as you had in stock.

For a moment, Severus entertained the thought of his wand, not crooked or bumpy but perfectly shaped, lab-grown dragon heartstring threaded through by an automated needle, sliding off an assembly line into a box full of identical wands. He felt something in himself rebel. The wand was conscious, this much he knew. It chose to work for him. The day consciousness could be mass-manufactured would be the day slavery became commonplace again, but on a terrifying scale. 

Wizarding society as a whole, though, seemed rather static. History from after the Statute of Secrecy was awfully dull, and not just because Binns was a ghost. War after war, uprisings from centaurs, goblins, trolls, all fought in the exact same way and with the exact same tools- simple wands, one per fighter. Innovations were mainly in more powerful spells, curses, or potions, all tailored to the individual wizard. There seemed to be no real sense of collectivism or tactics beyond basic maneuvers. The basic maneuvers were more interesting, however, than their muggle counterparts. The dynamics and sightlines of fighting from a broom, carpet, or thestral were very different from muggle aircraft.

Severus had tried to check, as well, if there were references for the history of non-European wizarding conflicts, but the Hogwarts library was not as vast as it seemed at first glance. All he was able to find was the diary of a witch who'd run off to Morocco twenty years ago with her muggle lover. She had apparently spent most of her time on the beach or at bars, and the details of wizarding Morocco were few and far between.

Thankfully, Muggle news was still coming- Lily would give him her newspapers, knowing he didn't have enough money to order his own subscription. They followed the excerpts of and wild speculation about the Pentagon Papers. Here was yet another angle of destruction the Muggles managed better than wizards ever had. Words in the right ears, and one country could throw another into complete chaos. It was quite the opposite of Grindelwald, of the Dark Lord archetype entirely. Power through dark magic, and brute force, and not much else. It fascinated him. Soft power in the wizarding world was rarely so destructive.

Although he was relatively content with life at Hogwarts, he was still Severus Snape- and peace didn't last forever. Severus was reading in a small grove of trees, close to the greenhouses, when he encountered James Potter and Sirius Black again. Looking up from his book at the shout of "Hey, Snapey!" he saw the two boys walking towards him. Behind them were two more Gryffindors, Lupin and ...Pettigrew, if he remembered correctly. He resisted the urge to groan. Classes with Gryffindor were bad enough- Potter would constantly bother Lily, tugging her hair in Transfiguration, trying to drop slugs down her sleeves in Potions. Lily would turn around in her seat and glare at him, and all of her friends, the Fortescue girl among them, would hiss admonishments and glower, as best as eleven-year-old girls could. Severus wanted desperately to do something about it, but Lily had made it clear his assistance would make things worse. "He asks why I talk to you, all the time! He keeps mocking me, saying we must be dating, and if I love you so much, why don't I marry you-" (Severus blushed at this, looking away) "-and if it's not that, he's telling me about how _rich_ his family is, and how they have bloody Quidditch box seats and a proper castle- Merlin, he's a pretentious pillock!"

So he did as she'd asked, and stayed out of it. He was glad she'd found a close group of friends so quickly- that was where Lily was meant to be, in the light, the center of a group, talking and laughing. He was grateful for every hour she spent with him, dour and dull as he was.

Severus returned his attention to the Gryffindors, who were now standing before him. "Smelly little Snapey," taunted Black. 

"What do you want?" he replied irritably.

"Ohh, that hair of yours, of course- so slick and greasy, we need it to grease the joints on our brooms, you know. Won't you let us have some, just a little?" 

Black then roared with laughter at his own joke, Potter joining in. Pettigrew was giggling rather nervously. Lupin, seemingly considering himself above these little games, was leaning against an adjacent tree, smirking as he watched. Severus swallowed his rage and the curses that leapt to mind, remembering that he and Morrigan had only studied the theory. They were not likely to work if he cast them now. Closing his book, he rose, intending to return to the Slytherin common room. As he walked away, Potter's voice rose from behind him.

"That why Evans talks to you? Probably not, she doesn't have a broom at home- she just feels sorry for you then. Snakey snippy Snivellus-"

"SNIVELLUS!" Black interrupted, laughing even harder. "Merlin, James, you're a bloody genius!"

Severus' shoulders stiffened, but he continued walking away. He couldn't let his rage get the best of him - after all, he promised Lily he wouldn't get involved. Black seemed satisfied enough, cackling to himself, but Potter was not content to let Severus leave. His tone grew strained, and more desperate.

"Snivelly!" he yelled. "I bet your mother cries every night, knowing that she birthed _you_! I'd certainly regret it, you bloody-"

Severus' vision flashed red. He remembered endless nights, his mother sitting on his bed and weeping, him wondering if she'd have left Tobias, found a better life, if she hadn't fallen pregnant with him. Inchoate rage manifested within him, and he turned towards Potter.

"SHUT UP! SHUT. UP!" he yelled, face red and neck straining. "NOT ONE MORE WORD ABOUT MY MOTHER!"

Potter's eyes glinted with delight, and he smirked. "Your mother was a slu-"

Severus whipped his wand out, an angry _Petrificus Totalus_ on his lips- and satisfyingly, Potter stopped short, toppling softly onto the grass. Black stared at Potter, aghast. Severus took advantage of his distraction, petrifying him too. Lupin was looking shocked, no longer leaning against the tree. Pettigrew stepped up, drawing his wand to defend his friends, but whimpered and retreated hen faced with Severus' glare. 

Severus knelt next to the bodies and jammed the tip of his wand into Potter's throat, hard. "If you say anything about my mother again," he muttered quietly, "I will make you regret it. Do you understand?" Potter's eyes were shifting back and forth, trying to look at Severus' face and his wand at the same time. They were interrupted by a strident shout, in McGonagall's Scottish brogue. 

"What exactly is going on here?" she called, striding quickly across the grounds towards them. As his bloodlust faded, Severus began to realize they'd gathered a small audience. A few Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, who'd probably just been in Herbology class with Potter's gang- and Lily. He felt his heart drop into his stomach. But no, he was saved- her face was red and she was glaring at Potter angrily. 

Professor McGonagall leaned down, quickly de-petrifying Potter and Black, who sat up, rubbing their backs. "Mr. Snape!" she exclaimed. "What possessed you to petrify your classmates?"

"He attacked us, Professor," Black pouted mournfully. "Just out of nowhere."

"We weren't expecting it," added Potter. "He pointed his wand right at our backs, you know how Slytherins are-"

Lupin and Pettigrew were nodding along. "Completely unfair- He cursed me on the train, too- Bloody snake- Could have died-"

Severus, for his part, found his voice stuck in his throat. He was afraid if he spoke right now, he'd either scream or cry. All the awful memories Potter had resurfaced were playing in his thoughts, and all he wanted to do was draw the hangings around his bed in Slytherin and cry it out.

"Is this true, Mr. Snape?" asked McGonagall sternly. "Did you target these boys for a random attack? Or did an older Slytherin instruct you to do this?"

Severus coughed, trying to unstick his throat. "I-"

"He was provoked!" yelled Lily from the sidelines, unable to stand Severus' silence for much longer. "Professor, Potter and Black were saying horrible things about him, and his mum!" Severus gave her a barely-perceptible smile in thanks, and knew by the softening of her eyes that she'd seen it.

McGonagall's brow furrowed. "We will have to see Professor Slughorn about this, seeing as he is your head of house. Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, Ms. Evans, and Mr. Snape, please accompany me to the dungeons."

Two parties of two trailed the green-clad professor, both surly and resentful. "Why'd you have to go and do that, Snivelly," whispered Black. "It was just a bit of fun-"

"Silence!" said McGonagall, without turning around. No other words were exchanged until they reached Slughorn's office. Severus' palms were sweaty with nervousness. The last thing he wanted was to be branded a delinquent. The boy could leave Spinner's End, he mused, but perhaps Spinner's End would never leave the boy. Professor McGonagall stopped at a large brown door, and knocked sharply. There was a rustling sound, and then Slughorn appeared in the doorway.

"Minerva, Minerva, dear! Do come in! Have you brought some students 'round for tea? I was just gifted the most _marvelous_ new blend, grown on a unicorn preserve in Germany, if you can believe it." He opened a cabinet and tapped a tea service with his wand. 

Slughorn's office was a grand affair. A matching set of sofas and armchairs took pride of place, sitting around a gilt-edged coffee table. The far right corner contained a mini-bar, with a wide variety of liquor and boxes of sweets, among which crystallized pineapple appeared with regularity. Slughorn had all but given up the notion of the teacher's desk, it seemed- the only concessions to work were a small writing desk half-hidden behind a cabinet and a haphazard mound of essays strewn over the mini-bar. 

"Unfortunately," said McGonagall, "we are not here for tea. We have had a disciplinary incident, which involves you, as head of Slytherin house."

"Oh dear," said Slughorn. "Oh dear, well that's not very good at all, is it?" He smiled kindly at all four children. "Now, I'm sure this was a misunderstanding- just have a seat, why don't you, and we can all clear this up."

They sat down, and McGonagall explained the situation to Slughorn. "Ah," he said, after a long pause. "I understand. Now, Miss... Evans, was it? What exactly did Mr. Potter and Mr. Black say?"

"Potter said Sev's mum didn't like having Sev as a child, and then he was about to call her a- a- a scarlet woman- but none of that is true at all! Sev is my best friend, and-"

"Thank you, Miss Evans," interrupted Slughorn gently. He turned to the other two. "Did you level these accusations, boys?"

Both boys were looking studiously at their laps, silent. "...Maybe," Potter muttered. 

"Mr. Potter!" exclaimed McGonagall. "I hardly think your parents would be pleased to hear of such a thing! This behavior is unacceptable from a student, and especially from one of my Gryffindors."

Slughorn looked pleased. "That sorts it out, then," he said. "Give Mr. Potter and Mr. Black what punishment you will, Minerva. These disciplinary matters are awfully dull, and I'm sure you children have quite a bit of homework to see to."

"Horace!" she said sternly. "There is the matter of Mr. Snape's actions. We cannot allow students to draw wands on one another, even if provoked."

"Oh, oh dear- come now Minnie, the boy was clearly not the aggressor, and has done your little lions no harm. And he managed to use Petrificus Totalus rather well, from what you tell me. Remarkable, absolutely commendable! The curriculum doesn't even cover it until after Yule, you know." Slughorn smiled at Severus, winking broadly. Severus was too stunned to smile back.

"Yes, it was a rather neat bit of magic," admitted an annoyed McGonagall. "But that does not excuse this infraction of the rules! If you will not discipline Mr. Snape, I shall assign him detention myself."

"Very well, very well," Slughorn sighed, looking put-upon. "Detention for two weeks, Mr. Snape. I will see you in the potions classroom at seven-thirty sharp."

"And as for you," said McGonagall, glaring at Potter and Black, "it'll be _three_ weeks, mucking out the stables for Care of Magical Creatures. And ten points from Gryffindor."

The boys' heads popped right up. "That's not fair!" said Potter. "Snape didn't get points taken off!"

"I am not Mr. Snape's head of house," said McGonagall tightly. "Ten points _each_."

They fell silent once again, and then all the students rose from the couch with McGonagall. She spoke to Slughorn, and then they exited the office. Severus went last, and Slughorn caught his sleeve. "I _am_ sorry I have to give you detention," he said. He looked genuinely regretful. 

"I understand, Professor," replied Severus, wondering at the absurdity of it all. 

______________________________________________

Rumor of the altercation had spread amongst the first years, and Rosier was the first to confront Severus about it in the Slytherin common room. Severus was accosted as soon as he walked in. 

"Snape!" called Rosier, from his seat by the fire. "Did you really duel two Gryffindors?"

"It wasn't a duel, per se..." Severus' response trailed off as he noticed Rosier was holding a court of his own, all the Slytherin first-years clustered around him. And now they were all staring at Severus. He was grateful the upper years didn't care much for first-year drama.

"Come, sit, tell us about it!" Rosier patted the cushion next to him, and Ellen Yaxley obligingly scooted over to make room. Severus walked over, and sat. Everyone was watching him, waiting for him to begin. For the usually reserved, lonely boy, it was both flattering and intimidating. But as he began to tell his tale, Severus found the words flowing more easily, along with a few embellishments - there was no need for the Slytherins to know all the details.

As they discussed the incident, Severus eliminating several rumors about how he cast a dark curse on Potter or made Black impotent, a beautiful third-year on the couch opposite turned to listen. Severus was struck by her beauty. It couldn't compare to Lily's, of course, not to him, but it still blindsided Severus. A chord twanged in his chest, somewhere deep, a pang of instinctual desire.

Narcissa Black was one of the few girls whose beauty was both universal and strong enough to elicit feeling. Every Slytherin had, at some point, been in love with either her or her sisters, Bellatrix and Andromeda- though the eldest's name had become a taboo since she married the Muggle-born husband of hers.

Severus, generally, had very few examples of female beauty in his life. His mother was just- his mother. He'd never seen her dressed up, had only rarely even seen her smile. The girls at Cokeworth primary were small, pale things, for the most part, clustering together to avoid the boys' brawls and keeping their heads down. Some boys had girlfriends, then, but they'd never seemed to say much. When he'd met Lily, he was head over heels. Fire-red hair, grass-green eyes, a lovely voice and a mind to match, first color in a life lived in grayscale. Narcissa Black, however, was something else entirely. She was ethereal, perfect beauty- where Lily's beauty added to her humanness, Narcissa's detracted from it. 

Unprepared for her gaze, Severus felt himself stumble, his words tripping over themselves. Narcissa smiled with amusement. He awkwardly attempted to forestall further conversation, and Rosier rescued him, declaring he'd had a long day of Gryffindor-baiting and ought to get some homework done. Knowing an out when he heard one, Severus gratefully accepted the excuse. Evan was surprisingly perceptive, both generous and socially intelligent- with the British students, at least. Severus' lips quirked into an amused smirk as he remembered Evan interrogating Zukovski about life in Russia. The look on the other boy's face left Severus no doubt that he was, in fact, not Russian.

A tall figure entered his peripheral vision, striding alongside him, and Severus turned to see Narcissa Black. "Tell me," she said. Her voice was light and lovely, with clipped aristocratic vowels, but her tone was casual, almost offhand. "Did you truly curse my brother?"

 _Her brother_ \- Sirius _Black_ \- but Severus didn't care, did he, that he was her brother. Forcing back his immediate desire to impress Narcissa, he stood his ground. "I regret you came to know of me through the incident. It was, however, necessary." He clamped his lips together, looking at her coldly. There was no way he would apologize for cursing that prick. He'd deserved it, and Potter too.

To his surprise, Narcissa laughed. "Oh no, no-" she began. "Don't misunderstand. I'm not angry. Impressed, rather. Believe it or not, the other first-years are afraid of him, and his little Potter pet. I'm glad a Slytherin was able to break that trend." 

Severus was shell-shocked. He'd been paid a compliment for cursing her brother and losing his temper in the process. As disagreeable and dour as he was, perhaps he still belonged in Slytherin, with its polished purebloods and social games. Severus wanted to reach _space_. If that wasn't ambitious, he didn't know what was. 

"...thank you," he replied to Narcissa. "I think."

The girl sighed. "Sirius wasn't always, well, the way he is now." Her blue eyes unfocused as she stared off into space. "Look, Severus- may I call you Severus?"

He nodded sharply in reply.

"I know what Sirius is like, and I know he probably started the argument. In light of that, may I ask for a favor?"

"You can ask," said Severus, bemused.

Narcissa paused, taking Severus' arm and drawing them into a quiet corner. "Not a simple Muggle favor. A wizard's Favor, sealed with magic. If you agree to do what I ask of you, you may call upon me when you have need. I would exchange my Favor for your promise not to hurt Sirius in any way that would be permanently disfiguring, mentally or physically."

"You're asking me to stand down."

"Not exactly, no- I- he's still my little brother, I just don't want to see him hurt, and you- I know you're capable of it. You and your Ravenclaw girlfriend aren't as sneaky as you think you are."

"You think I'm sadistic?" hissed Severus angrily. "I hit him with a body-bind!"

"No, no," murmured Narcissa placatingly. Her face tensed. "It's that when Sirius latches on to something, he doesn't let go. He's going to keep at you, and he won't stop until you snap, and when that happens, I- I just want to be able to protect him. Do whatever you like, body-bind him, stupefy him, turn him orange- as long as it's not truly dangerous."

Severus considered the offered deal. Being able to call on someone with Narcissa's connections could prove useful someday, but he truly had no immediate use for it. On the other hand, he was certain maiming another student would get him expelled from Hogwarts, provocation or no, and he had no intention of doing such a thing anyway. As to Narcissa's point, that Black would push him until he snapped, he had no response besides that she may know Black, but she did not know him. Ultimately, the deal struck him as favorable. He was losing almost nothing in exchange for tremendous potential upside. But tomorrow's circumstance would inevitably be different from today's, so-

"One year. I will keep my word until the end of the school year, and if we both want to renew the promise next year, we will re-negotiate terms."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "No." Severus blinked. "I don't think you understand," she said, "what it is I'm offering you. A Favor means that you can call on me once, at anytime, for anything, understand? If you were to ask me to attempt murder, lose a limb, _betray my family_ , even, I'd have to do it. I would be bound. No grotty one-year contract will earn a Favor."

Severus blinked as he understood the magnitude of her risk. "My apologies," he replied stiffly. "It was not my intention to belittle your Favor. In exchange for it, I swear I will not attempt to truly harm Sirius Black unless he attempts to truly harm me."

"Very well," she replied. "That is fair enough." She sliced both their hands open, mixing the blood, and incanted a sentence in Latin. A silvery string emerged from the blood, one end curling around each of their wrists, hers dangling by her side and Severus' clutched to his chest.

"We are bound," she said. "Thank you, Severus." Reaching for his hand, she healed both their cuts.

"Thank you, Miss Black-"

"Narcissa," she commanded.

"Narcissa."  
_________________________________________

He hadn't expected to _feel_ the vow, but it was past midnight and he was tossing and turning, unaccustomed to the feeling of it, like an itch in his brain. He quietly snuck out of bed, intending to sit by the fire in the common room, stare at the dark lake beyond the windows and soothe his mind. As he passed by the study tables, to his surprise, he saw Narcissa, fast asleep next to a quill and inkpot, parchment spread out around her. He walked over, intending to wake her, and almost tripped over a crumpled-up parchment on the floor. He picked it up, smoothing out the creases. What had she been working on, anyway? A letter, as it turned out. 

_Dear Siri,  
I miss you. I understand your feelings about Mother and Father, truly, more than you think. But please, please don't shut me out too. Andi is gone, Siri, she's gone, and Bella's left Hogwarts, and all I have is you and Reg. I did want you in Slytherin. I wanted to show you our windows that open right into the Black Lake, and... really, I just wanted it all to be like it was, before.   
I'm proud of you, still, for sorting Gryffindor. It's what you want, and you seem happy. I'm even glad you have Potter. Just come say something to me, anything. Reply to this letter. I won't say a word about Mother and Father, or your house or habits or friends, I swear it. I miss you. Can we try again, without Bella this time?   
I want our family back, Gryffindor or Slytherin, light or dark.  
Love,  
Cissy  
_

Severus put the letter on the desk, and caught a glimpse of the other parchments. Dear Bella, Dear Mother, Dear Father- he quickly stepped back. It felt far too intrusive to see any more. He walked off as fast as he dared towards the couches by the fire, swallowing hard. She was just a thirteen-year-old girl trying to keep her family together, even traded away a Favor for it. Guilt washed over Severus. He was the exact opposite, trying to tear his parents apart. He drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around himself. If beautiful, put-together, _clever_ Narcissa Black could barely handle family matters, he had no chance. He ached with the simultaneous desire to help both her and himself, to take away both their problems and finally belong somewhere. Slytherin was a start- house was family, after all, but the fact remained- it was not the same.

His mind traveled the same paths it did every time he came to an unsolvable problem. He closed his eyes and imagined it all in smoke, atoms themselves decomposing at the epicenter of a nuclear blast, evaporating Narcissa and her awful, vulnerable letters, evaporating him and his guilt and his sadness, and Rosier and Morrigan and Malfoy and everyone else, all of them swirling down together in bits and pieces, snow after the blast.

Severus jumped as a squeeze to his shoulder pulled him from his reveries. "I heard a crash," said a tired Lucius Malfoy. "What are you doing? Go back to bed."

"Sorry," he replied. "Accidental magic, I think." The vase over the fireplace had smashed- not into a few pieces, but into a fine swirling powder. Malfoy nudged him off the couch, and swept the vase-dust away with a sweep of his wand. 

"Nothing to worry about," the prefect replied. "It'll stop happening as your control improves. Let's get back to your dorm room, now."

"Wait-" said Severus. "Are you close with Narcissa Black?"

Lucius' brow furrowed. "We are friends, yes. I've known all the Black sisters since we were homeschooled together."

"She fell asleep, on the study tables. I didn't want to wake her, but I probably should have."

"One moment," said Lucius.

He made his way to the table, lighting a single candle, and gently called Narcissa's name, touching her shoulder. She blinked, twice, and her head raised from where it was pillowed on her arms as she sat up. They spoke quietly for a few minutes in the candlelight, her face tilted up to his. Then Lucius beckoned Severus as Narcissa began to gather her letters.

"Let's go back to your dorm," he said, leading Severus out of the common room. Narcissa sat at the table, watching them go. The prefect dropped him off at his door.

“Did you see what she was writing?” he asked.

Severus swallowed, hard, his voice stuck in his throat.

“Do not speak of it,” said Lucius, gray eyes cold. “Forget you saw it, or I will erase your memory.”

“Forgotten,” squeaked Severus, wanting nothing more than to retreat. 

"Thank you for finding her," he said. Severus nodded, and he was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sev is obviously an unreliable narrator, and has pretty low self-esteem at this point, so he'll interpret things in very pessimistic ways - just a reminder that the way sev sees things isnt always the way they are. 
> 
> also, i realized i made a mistake (andromeda is younger than bellatrix in canon) but i don't want to go back and change it, so it'll just be this way.

"Nobody believed me, but I knew something was up the first time our battle-potions mysteriously failed- remember, in Falmouth, a few weeks before the Dark Lord attacked the Potters? Severus was capable of great focus. If he wanted his potions to work perfectly, they would, just like they did from the moment he was marked. Of course he was a bloody spy all along."  
\- Anton Avery to Corban Yaxley, in Ministry holding cells, just before the Voldemort Trials  
___________________  
When Rosier's bell smashed the next morning, Severus was tired and irritable. Opting to skip breakfast, he hid under the covers and waited for the other boys to leave. Once the room was empty, he pulled out a well-loved bundle of parchment and unrolled it. It was organized in three major sections - _Suit_ , _Transportation_ , and _Necessities _. Severus was just discovering the world of magic before him, and was absolutely certain that wizards had the capability to reach the moon, sitting in the palms of their hands.__

___Suit_ was home to a diagram of all the parts that went into a Muggle spacesuit, and speculations on how to replace the machinery with spells. He'd last been investigating whether Bubble-head charms merely filtered in the oxygen from one's surroundings or produced oxygen on their own. _Transportation_ was the exact opposite, as Severus had no intention of recreating a metal spaceship. He'd jotted down several references of wizards who'd been able to apparate to unknown locations with just a knowledge of the world and a given latitude and longitude. Unfortunately, Severus had no way to test these theories. Apparition and Bubble-head charms were upper year spells, far beyond the current limits of his power._ _

__He was able to make more progress with _Necessities_. Vanishing charms could handle human waste easily. Food was an exception to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, but Severus reasoned one could place premade food under a permanent stasis charm and duplicate unto eternity. It would doubtless become dull, but that was the least of his worries. Water was _not_ a Gamp exception, and could therefore be conjured from naught. However, Severus had yet to test this outside an Earth-like atmosphere with an abundance of hydrogen and oxygen. But all in all, he was not so worried about _Necessities_. Wizards had long since figured out reliable ways to feed themselves._ _

__Severus had never shared this project with anyone. Though he sometimes felt the urge, something held him back. Perhaps a conviction that others wouldn't understand, perhaps a lack of confidence in his own speculation. Surely wizards had wanted to visit the stars before now, surely their lack of success could not be attributed to lack of _trying_. Unfortunately, the more Severus read, the more he realized that was the case. If anyone could understand, he thought, it would be Morrigan. It frustrated her to no end that her Ravenclaw friends didn't take her passion for duelling seriously. But today, looking at his notes, the memory of last night tugged at him- of Narcissa Black trying to keep her family close. Keeping people close was not something Severus was naturally good at, and Narcissa's letters had revealed an important tenet to him- if he wanted to keep people close, he would have to be vulnerable. The one person he was truly desperate to keep close was Lily._ _

__He'd tried to join her group a few times since the Sorting, but each time heard the whispers of her friends- _he's so weird, why do you talk to him? He just glares at everyone, you know, and he never smiles-_ and had made his excuses, leaving quickly. A confusing mixture of humiliation, guilt, and self-hatred had swirled within him. Wanting to avoid that (and avoid ruining Lily's reputation and chance to make Gryffindor friends), he'd been turning down his best friend's invitations. It occurred to him, now, that Lily probably felt quite like Narcissa did. She hoped he sorted Gryffindor, hoped they wouldn't grow apart, tried to invite him to study with her and her friends, and he gave nothing back. This painful realization settled in his chest, and impulsively, he decided to owl her and explain his absence with his project. Rolling out of bed and getting dressed, he was able to make it to the Owlery before breakfast ended, and shot off a quick note with a school owl.  
______________________________ _

__Severus waved and jabbed, turning his mouse into a perfect white pincushion. McGonagall smiled in delight as she poked it with a pin. "Excellent work, Mr. Snape," she said. "You must have studied quite a lot. You've advanced from nothing to a perfect pincushion in less than a week."_ _

__"Thank you, Professor," he replied. Severus had no natural ability for transfiguration. He breezed through the rest of the first-year classes quite easily, but Transfiguration put him through his paces. Potter and Black, those pompous prats, _did_ have transfiguration talent. They'd spent most of the last class laughing as his mouse ran around and around his desk, flipping their furry, squeaking pincushions. Severus had even heard the word "Squib" thrown around. He'd stabbed Lupin with a small pin as he left class that day, and his anger drove him straight to the library, where he'd been all week. It was worth it to see McGonagall compare his pincushion to Potter's, which still squeaked and tried to run when she brought a pin near it._ _

__Idly, he spun his wand between his fingers, slowly descending into boredom. Catching himself, he instead began to read ahead in the Transfiguration text, excited to reach some sort of guiding principles. But as he leafed through, all he saw were more, increasingly random transformations. Small rodents to toiletries, footstools to mushrooms, dice to pearls. Annoyed, he raised his hand to call McGonagall over again. She made her way over, and approached his desk._ _

__"Do you need extra help, Mr. Snape? You seem to have mastered the spell."_ _

__"I don't," he replied. "Professor, why are we learning so many specific transfigurations? They don't seem like they have much practical use. What if I wanted a pincushion but couldn't find a mouse?"_ _

__"There is an overarching theory behind Transfiguration," she explained. "It will allow you to animate and bend the physical world, once you understand the common properties of different materials and forms."_ _

__Severus' excitement rose. "When will we learn that? After Yule? Could you transfigure houses, or castles, or- " _airplanes_ , he had been about to say, but cut himself off at the last minute._ _

__“You’ll learn the theory later,” said McGonagall. “Much later. In fact, we won’t even begin to cover the basics until your fourth year. Only my top NEWT students can transfigure anything as large as a house. I suggest you continue practicing this transformation for now, Mr. Snape, or assist your classmates.”_ _

__This all seemed quite backwards to Severus, who poked his wand at his mouse irritably. What was the use of learning a million arbitrary transfigurations? He was sure first-years could understand fourth-year material if they simply took the class slower, extended the curriculum through two years-_ _

__A loud squabble between MacDonald and Lupin broke his train of thought. Lupin had lost his mouse, and appeared to be entertaining himself by trying to steal MacDonald’s. Severus turned his attention back to his desk. Right. Because the first-years couldn't _focus_._ _

__Beside MacDonald and Lupin, there was a second Gryffindor squabble. James Potter, of course, was involved. He'd turned in his seat, and resting his elbows on Lily's desk, had proceeded to try and distract her, waving his squeaking pincushion around using _Leviosa_. Lily and MacDonald were both growing increasingly irritated with the attention. Severus practically itched with the desire to do something, anything, but heeding Lily's wishes, he refrained. His fist clenched of its own accord, fingernails digging into his palm, and he imagined himself in MacDonald's seat, sitting next to Lily and showing her the wand movements, and standing behind her, taking her hand, guiding her slowly through the spell- He cut off his own thoughts as his cheeks began to burn, and spent the remainder of class staring at a random page in his Transfiguration book blankly until McGonagall dismissed them. _ _

__As they were leaving class, Lily caught Severus' sleeve and smiled, about to say something - until, predictably, Potter broke in. "Why're you talking to Snivelly, Evans? Careful, you'll end up just as greasy as he is!"_ _

__Lily scowled and turned to face Potter, yanking her wand out of her robes and pointing it at him. "You're an arrogant _idiot_ , James Potter! You're always following me around, and annoying me, like a- a-" _ _

__Her face was red, and she was advancing on Potter slowly. Potter had his hands up in the universal surrender. In his peripheral vision, Severus saw Black begin to draw his wand, his eyes locked on Lily, and something in him snapped. He whipped out his own and stepped between Lily and Black. The vow he'd made to Narcissa tightened around his throat. "Going to curse her, Black?"_ _

__"What? No! Of course not! Gryffindors maintain house unity, you know."_ _

__Unity. _Unity_. Severus, still rattled from imagining Lily at the end of Black's wand, felt himself grow cold. "Unity isn't your strong point, is it? Left your siblings, left your parents, left your family to run around after jumped-up, arrogant Potter."_ _

__Black turned pale, his face frozen in shock. Severus' stomach, too, dropped. He realized he hadn't thought the vow through - neither he nor Narcissa had. Luckily, taunting did not seem to fall within Narcissa's intended meaning of "harm". He suspected she'd only thought of spells, of curses. If he was lucky, he might even get away with hitting Black the Muggle way._ _

__Looking at Black's face, just then, Severus felt a swoop of guilt in his stomach- but then again, Potter and Black had insulted his mother first. Black unfroze himself, dropped his wand, and launched himself at Severus. The Slytherin, knowing he had far more experience fighting than any rich pureblood, shoved his bony elbow into Black's solar plexus, and when the other boy doubled over, kneed him in the face, careful to avoid his nose. Black groaned, and Potter rushed to his defense, drawing his wand and glaring daggers at Severus. "Flitwick's coming!" yelled a voice, suddenly. It was Lupin, running down the left corridor. Severus and Lily looked at each other, and then Lily grabbed Severus' hand, pulling him into a run as they turned right and bolted. They didn't stop till they'd reached the grounds, collapsing in the shade of a tree. The grounds were fairly empty- the late October weather drove all but the Care of Magical Creatures students and Quidditch players inside._ _

__"Oh my god," said Lily, after a few moments._ _

__" _Merlin_ , Lily, not God," said Severus, laughing gently._ _

__"He was really pissing me off. Did you see him, and Lupin, in class?"_ _

__"I'm surprised you and MacDonald didn't _Leviosa_ their eyes right out of the sockets."_ _

__Lily giggled. "Tempting, very tempting. I'll have to remember that for next time." She paused. "Was Black really going to attack me?"_ _

__"I don't know," admitted Severus. "It scared me, though."_ _

__She smiled, leaning on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Severus. I don't think he would have hurt me, he's just bothersome. But- his family- how did you know all that? I don't think even I knew that, but from the look on his face, it was all true, wasn't it?"_ _

__Severus related the story of that fateful night, swearing Lily to secrecy. He left out, with a pang of guilt, his vow to Narcissa. He'd never considered hiding it from Lily until he came to the actual telling of it, and found he felt an obligation to Narcissa, to seek her permission. The feeling was strange. He'd never had cause to keep anything from Lily before. Lily was shocked, given all she'd heard in Gryffindor about Lucius Malfoy and the Black family._ _

__"You shouldn't have used that against Black, Sev- especially considering how you found out."_ _

__"It was low, I know," he admitted. "But what they said about my mother was too."_ _

__"They didn't _know_ how much it would hurt, though, did they? Not like you did."_ _

__Severus' eyes widened in shock, Lily hurrying to reassure him. "No- Sev, sorry, I didn't mean that how it sounded. I don't mean to defend them. I just don't want you to stoop to their level, to retaliate just because you can."_ _

__He melted. She brought out all the light in his cold, dark self, she was the fire that kept him reaching for something better. "Merlin, Lily, you're right. You're right." He felt, deeply, the gulf between them. His first instincts were those of total war, of maximal effectiveness. The one law of combat he'd learnt in Cokeworth was to stay below the adults' radar. Beyond that, it was a free-for-all. But here was Lily, reminding him he wasn't there anymore. At Hogwarts, there was propriety, there were terms of engagement. Narcissa had known, he thought suddenly. Clever Narcissa Black had realized he wouldn't adhere to any such terms, realized her brother was in his firing line, and taken steps to prevent it. He felt like a savage in his clothes, awkward and gangly, an uncivilized boor. And here was Lily, leading him towards enlightenment and civilization, bright halls and carefree laughs, a world where harm was rare. He wanted it with every fiber of his being._ _

__Lily had seen his face change and shift, and sought to distract him. "It's all right, really- they started it! Let's not waste any more time talking about them. I got your owl this morning, do you really have a plan to go to space?"_ _

__Severus swallowed, shoving his thoughts aside. "I do."_ _

__They huddled together over his scroll, sketching further ideas and plans. Lily's fascination and awe reminded him of how incredible a friend she was, a girl who was too good for him, but who enjoyed his company. Who took an interest in his projects, who would stand up for him if he needed it._ _

__He still felt very exposed admitting that even to himself - opening himself to emotion in that way drew him too close to the gaping pits in his heart he so carefully avoided. At Hogwarts, he was desperate to fill every spare hour, to stay as busy as possible. Without something to occupy his mind with, he would eventually fall into the spiral of thinking of his parents, remembering Eileen's face when she'd seen him off at King's Cross. Remembering how the other students talked about him, Potter and Black whispering behind their hands about his greasy hair, worn clothes, used books._ _

__Lily saw his project as a work of passion, similar to her photography hobby. What she didn't see was the level of the charms, the rigor of the research- the all-consuming tasks that served Severus as a way to hide, to run from himself, pretend he was anyone other than who he was. Just like back in the TV store in Cokeworth, any moment Severus was going to space, or splitting an atom, he was not himself. He was someone better, someone worthy of Lily._ _

__Dissociation had become much more difficult at Hogwarts. Worse still, Narcissa's letters had unlocked some wellspring of emotion within him, and the loneliness and isolation he'd bottled up since the Sorting was rising uncomfortably close to the surface. He felt it bubbling as he left Lily, through his afternoon classes, through dinner. As he headed towards Slughorn's classroom for detention, the dam finally broke._ _

__Severus ducked quickly into a nearby unlocked closet, hid in the corner, and let himself cry. Hogwarts was no different for him than Cokeworth. No real friends except Lily, Morrigan simply Weston's replacement, and crushing, constant isolation- and most of it his own fault. Hogwarts was worse, actually. In Cokeworth there were at least others like Severus, boys in patched trousers trapped in a hell of their own making. Hogwarts students tended to roam in tight-knit packs, a social structure Severus had never figured out how to join. There was no doubt in his mind had he shown up as the last Prince heir, clad in a miniature version of Lucius Malfoy's silk cloak, he would be treated like Wilkes was. A half-pure half-blood, a proud member of Slytherin though not one of its thoroughbreds. Not that he was treated _badly_ , per se- but that was precisely what made things difficult. He'd have his few minutes of fame, courtesy of Rosier, when he won points for Slytherin (literal or metaphorical). But he'd soon understood his status. He wasn't invited to post-Quidditch parties. He didn't merit a study group invitation unless an exam was imminent and they were desperate. Perhaps worst of all, they would speak in friendly tones to him in the Great Hall, classes, even the common room, and simultaneously chat with one another and make plans excluding Severus. _ _

__He wiped his cheeks and nose on his robe sleeve, trying to conceal his face. He'd gone to the library last month, intent on looking for clothing modification charms to let him fit in. But as he'd begun to ease the book off the shelf, his pride rebelled. He was Severus Snape, and he wouldn't change for anyone else's satisfaction, least of all theirs. He'd shoved the book back into its spot almost violently. Since then, he'd practiced striding down halls, spine straight and proud, with patched robes and lank, greasy hair. To the Snape family, new clothes and shampoo were luxuries. Trying to keep up with his wealthier classmates would drain Severus dry._ _

__Recovering from his bout of self-pity, Severus began to stand. He felt off-balance and irritable, and regretted giving in to his impulse. Straightening his clothes and wiping his face, he set off for the first of Slughorn's detentions.  
_____________ _

__To his surprise, when he reached the classroom, Slughorn had company. The rotund professor was sitting behind his desk, making easy conversation with three older Slytherins who stood before him, like penitents. On the left stood a broad-shouldered, blond boy Severus thought he recognized from passing by Slytherin Quidditch practices. On the right was a tall, thin girl with a tumble of black curls and a haughty stature. And in between them stood Lucius Malfoy, yet again. Severus almost snorted. Was there anywhere Malfoy _wasn't_? But he remained silent, and stood in the back of the classroom unobtrusively to listen in._ _

__"-think so, Corban," Slughorn was saying, addressing the Quidditch player. "I imagine all your parents would be quite appreciative of such a referral. The delicacy of the ward-work involved, the -ah, unusual types of magic- it is difficult to find someone both well-versed and discreet. Fortunately, I do know such a person. She's a half-blood, currently in India for research, but she will be home for Yule. Would that suit?"_ _

__The dark-haired girl leaned forward, her hands on the edge of the desk. "You're absolutely sure," she said, "that this _half-blood_ knows the unusual magics involved?"_ _

__"She is a personal referral!" replied Slughorn, affronted. Malfoy placed a hand on the dark-haired girl's shoulder._ _

__"Professor Slughorn's personal referral, Bella," he said softly. "We could hardly find anyone better." His tone contradicted the white of his knuckles where he was squeezing her shoulder, the gesture hidden from Slughorn by her mane of hair. She turned to look at Malfoy, and removed her hands from the desk, stepping back. Only then did he let go of her._ _

__The Quidditch player nodded decisively. "Yule is good," he said. "Thank you, Professor."_ _

__Slughorn smiled benevolently at them. "Of course, of course. Anything for our brightest young minds."_ _

__"Just one more thing," the Quidditch player said, turning towards his bag. Severus moved into shadow, but not quickly enough._ _

__"Merlin!" he said, halfway into his bag. "Have you been lurking here this whole time?"_ _

__Malfoy and the dark-haired girl turned, too, and Slughorn rose from his chair. "Ah, Mr. Snape! Here you are! Detention, you know," he informed the older years. "Fighting. He fired off _Petrificus_ barely two months into Hogwarts, took down two Gryffindors- unfair to penalize him for having better spellwork, if you ask me. Mr. Snape, meet Bellatrix Black, Lucius Malfoy, and Corban Yaxley - though I'm sure you already know him from Quidditch!"_ _

__He exchanged greetings and shook hands in turn, Lucius giving him a knowing smirk._ _

__"These three," continued the professor, "are some of the sharpest minds at Hogwarts, my boy. If you're lucky, maybe they'll teach you their tricks someday!" Everyone smiled politely, and Severus a bit awkwardly. Slughorn reached out to pat his head, but seemed to think better of it after doing a double-take at his hair. "Don't be intimidated, now," he said. "They're very nice people."_ _

__"I'm sure," said Severus helplessly._ _

__Yaxley finally found what he was looking for in his bag. "Here, Professor," he said. A box of crystallized pineapple exchanged hands as Severus looked on with interest. It was an odd currency. Certainly symbolic, but judging by the way Slughorn was eyeing it, he clearly didn't mind the material aspect._ _

__Detention was hardly a footnote to the scene Severus had stumbled upon. He diced flobberworms and washed cauldrons as Slughorn nodded off in his chair, and woke the professor at 9:30. "The flobberworms are in the jar-"_ _

__"Yes, good, go back to the dorms now, Mr. Snape," said the professor, yawning. "I think I will have one of the prefects supervise your remaining detentions."_ _

__"Is that allowed?" he asked suspiciously._ _

__"Not quite, but- we can keep that on a need-to-know basis, can't we?" He winked broadly._ _

__"Yes, Professor."  
_______________________ _

__After that night, Lucius took an interest in him, checking on his schoolwork and inviting him to study groups. On one memorable occasion, he caught Severus and Morrigan sitting down to study before a Quidditch match, and murmured a spell that forced their books shut. He pulled up a chair and sat down._ _

__“Quidditch will be starting soon,” he observed mildly. Morrigan snorted and leaned back in her chair._ _

__“I enjoy Quidditch,” she said. “Just not Hogwarts Quidditch.”_ _

__Lucius arched an eyebrow, turning his gaze to her. “Why not?”_ _

__“It’s boring! The pitch is too small, the brooms are too slow, and the Snitch is overvalued compared to the skill of the Chasers. I’ll go to Hogwarts matches when I can play in them.”_ _

__“Unfortunately, you’re right about the Snitch,” said Lucius, grimacing. “It remains a mystery why we play with professional league rules. But Hogwarts Quidditch is not about the sport. Most wizards who want to play professionally attend training camps.”_ _

__“It’s about House unity,” Severus realized suddenly. “Giving everyone a common enemy.”_ _

__Lucius favored him with a slow smile. “That is why you must attend. One cannot reap the benefits of this particular ritual without taking part in it.”_ _

__“I suppose you needn’t come, though you should feel welcome to do so,” he said, turning to Morrigan. “Eagles are the odd ones out, a house full of mavericks. I doubt your prefects would bat an eye if you told them you didn’t go because you weren’t interested.”_ _

__“The prefects only go because they’re friends with the players.” She turned to Severus. “You’re going?”_ _

__“Yes,” he replied. “Sorry.”_ _

__She sighed. “We’ll reschedule. I’m going to take a nap.”  
_____________________________ _

__The stands were alive with the shouts of spectators. This particular match was Slytherin-Gryffindor, heating the rivalry further. Severus picked his way through the crowd to find Rosier, at the lowest benches reserved for first-years. As the reigning prince of the Slytherin first-years, much like Malfoy was of the fifth-years, Rosier was careful not to make unnecessary enemies. Severus knew he could join that group._ _

__Unfortunately, he was late enough that he’d have to pass through the Gryffindor section. Lucius had left him back in the library, intending to round up the remaining Slytherins who were mostly fifth- or seventh-years getting a very early head start on their OWL or NEWT examinations. Severus carefully picked his way through the second-year benches, hoping to avoid Potter's gang, when there was a yell from behind him. "Oi, Snape!"_ _

__"Hold him, Frank!" That was Potter. A second-year Gryffindor grabbed his arms, restraining him as Potter and Black made their way over._ _

__"What did you do?" he asked. "Nick James' things?"_ _

__"No," replied Severus angrily. "Let me go!"_ _

__"Come on, whatever it was, just give it back, all right?" said the Gryffindor gently. "Deep breaths."_ _

__Severus knew why the older student's first assumption was thievery- it was in his patched robes, his lank hair, even in his bearing. He didn't walk with a proud Malfoy strut, or Black glide, or Potter swagger. He, by contrast, skulked, keeping to shadowy corners and abandoned corridors, making himself as small as possible._ _

__Potter's gang had almost made their way over when the Gryffindor holding Severus loosened his grip, hissing. Seeing his chance, Severus ducked under his arm and ran up the bleachers towards the Slytherin bloc, directly into Narcissa Black. She had a wand pointed at the second-year, and was watching him coldly. "Restraining first-years now, Longbottom?" she asked. "What a great Auror you'll make."_ _

__"Sorry," he said ruefully, rubbing his hands on his pants. "James asked me to hold him." Potter had finally arrived beside Longbottom. "Did he steal something, James?" he asked curiously._ _

__"He- well- it's a long story," said Potter, panting his words._ _

__Narcissa looked frustrated. "Longbottom, in the future, perhaps you should ensure there's a valid accusation before you start restraining younger students - or better yet, stay out of first-year squabbles entirely."_ _

__He flushed. For all that she was a Slytherin, she was quite beautiful. "Alright," he mumbled sheepishly. Potter's mouth contorted into an O as he sensed his companion's betrayal, and they launched into an argument as Narcissa drew Severus into the stands._ _

__"Meet me after the match, Severus," she said. "We'll have a good hour before we're expected at the after-party. Find me by the lake."_ _

__With that, she disappeared, leaving him with Rosier's group. As he'd predicted, they welcomed him in, and Rosier passed him a chocolate frog. Lucius had been right about Quidditch. Severus cheered for every green-and-silver goal, and felt the stands rise around him. He even fell into comfortable conversation with Wilkes, Ellen Yaxley, and Greengrass about the Gryffindor strategies. The game finally ended as the redhead Gryffindor seeker, Fabian Prewett - he'd seen him on the train platform, Severus realized, being scolded by his sister, Molly - caught the snitch. A roar began from the Gryffindor stands, and the Slytherins grumbled and jeered. Severus understood what Morrigan meant about the Snitch - the Chasers on either side had racked up about 300 points altogether, a paltry amount compared to the 150-point worth of the Snitch. Unless the Chasers were ridiculously mismatched, every match came down to a seekers' game. He explained this to the dejected first-years around him, who looked heartened._ _

__"Prewett is graduating soon," said Evan. "Gryffindor will have to train someone new. Plus, I think I could beat Travers to a snitch."_ _

__Picking up the thread, Yaxley made explicit what Evan was hinting at. "Will you try out, next year?"_ _

__"I think so," he replied. "Slytherin deserves a Cup win."_ _

__"You'll do well," Severus said, to his own surprise. Evan, too, looked rather stunned._ _

__"Really? You think so?"_ _

__"You've quick reflexes." Severus meant it, too. That was what made Evan so good at Charms._ _

__The other boy smiled slowly, more genuinely than Severus had ever witnessed previously. "That means a lot. Thank you." Severus looked at him askance. "You're usually so taciturn, you know," said Evan. "So I know that if you say something like that, you must really mean it."_ _

__Severus nodded. "I do." He felt a smile rising. Evan understood him, and explained it so that the rest of the group would see it too. Severus' first estimation of him was still correct - Evan was generous, but he knew the value of a favor. A day could come when he called it in.  
_________________________ _

__Finally extricating himself from the post-Quidditch crowd making for the castle, Severus made his way to the lake. Sure enough, Narcissa was there, still as a statue. Her long, blonde hair was crown-braided, and the wisps that escaped blew about her head. She turned at his approach, but did not smile. Severus picked through the grass and mud patches, admiring the scene. Had it been any girl less beautiful, he'd have considered it melodramatic._ _

__"I've found something out," she said as he approached, eschewing small talk. Her expression was grave, ice-blue eyes wide. Severus stared back at her, waiting for her to elaborate. All at once, her icy facade broke down._ _

__"Lucius told me what you saw," she cried, her eyes intense. "I was worried about Siri, I- I shouldn't have left those letters out, but you mustn't speak a word of it!"_ _

__"Wait- wait, what?" Severus said, overwhelmed. "Malfoy already threatened me."_ _

__"No! No, it's not that-"_ _

__She took several deep breaths, barely able to calm herself. "I found out what you said to Sirius. You used the information against him." Her eyes searched his face._ _

__Severus' cheeks heated with embarrassment and humiliation. "I was vague," he insisted, defending himself. "It wasn't so specific he'd realize it wasn't a- a simple shot in the dark-"_ _

__"Shots in the dark don't hurt like that!" And Narcissa was yelling again. A single tear rolled down her face. "They aren't so _precise_ -"_ _

__"They are! They can be!" yelled Severus. "Narcissa, your precious baby brother took a bloody shot in the dark at my _mother_ , and it was spot on, so forgive me if I happen to try and get my own back-"_ _

__"Are you-" her expression froze abruptly, fire turning to ice. "He said something about your mother?"_ _

__"The second bloody time I spoke to him! Well- actually, it might have been Potter who initiated that-"_ _

__"It doesn't matter," she said, her expression shocked and open. "That wasn't a shot in the dark."_ _

__"What?" hissed Severus. "What is that supposed to mean?"_ _

__"My mother- Druella Black, neè Rosier-"_ _

__" _Merlin_ ," said Severus. He recalled, when he was younger, meeting a woman named Druella. She'd taken him and his mother for tea in central London - _Muggle_ London. No wonder. Lady Druella Black could hardly be seen in the company of a woman who'd married a Muggle. The visits had stopped at some point, and Severus had barely noticed. "She knew my mother. And you know who my mother is."_ _

__"Most purebloods don't keep track of half-blood genealogy," admitted Narcissa. "But that is why I know. We overheard Mother talking to Father, about her schoolmate Eileen Prince, and the situation she'd gotten herself into, falling pregnant by some Muggle named Snape, and an abusive one at that."_ _

__"So he knew," said Severus slowly, "and then he told Potter, and then-"_ _

__"-and he knew where to strike," she finished softly. "I'm sorry," she groaned, putting her hands over her face. "I'm so sorry." Severus saw tears began to drip through her fingers as her shoulders shook. He had the feeling she wasn't apologizing to him, either._ _

__Dealing with crying girls wasn't his forte, but he was loath to leave her outside in the cold. He moved closer, unsure what to do, and reached out to pat her shoulder. The taller girl turned into his hand, and he gave in, moving closer and embracing her. Narcissa put her arms around his waist, crying into his shoulder. Soon enough, she'd calmed down, and Severus was still stunned by her actions. They awkwardly disentangled, and Narcissa gently blotted at her face with the end of her sleeve. "I'm sorry, I'm not usually so- unrestrained. I hope you'll forgive me."_ _

__That was Severus' cue to leave, but he didn't want to take it. He still felt protective, somehow, of the girl before him. Some combination of her beauty, her vulnerability, and the vow between them compelled him to stay. "I saw your letters," he said awkwardly, "and you know about my family. I understand."_ _

__It was an inelegant way to express what he'd been thinking, but Narcissa didn't hold it against him. She simply nodded, and offered to walk him back to the castle, her appearance completely put to rights once again._ _


	7. Chapter 7

"Trust me, I've been teaching alongside the man for nigh on a decade, and I've never so much as been invited for tea. It's wonderful that you're trying to make friends among the staff, but in his case I wouldn't bother."

\- Septima Vector to Charity Burbage, Harry Potter's third year at Hogwarts  
_____________________

Severus ascended from the dungeons to an unusual breakfast. Pumpkin-based dishes blanketed each house table, and jack-o-lanterns hung merrily between the Great Hall's chandeliers. Halloween had found Hogwarts. All the muggle-borns found the entire affair dreadfully amusing - they were dressing up as witches and wizards every day, after all. A few of them had come to breakfast in costume, to the bewilderment of their pureblood classmates. Almost automatically, Severus' gaze snapped to the Gryffindor table and sought out Lily. Her one concession to Muggle Halloween was a black headband with attached cat ears, which she had charmed to twitch and fold. Severus found them rather adorable despite himself.

Some of the pureblood students were carrying small jars with fire within, including Lucius. Severus caught him on his way out of the Great Hall, and asked what the jar meant. He hadn't wanted to ask at breakfast with the first-years and out his own ignorance.

"You don't know what this is?" asked Lucius, sounding genuinely surprised. "It's a Samhain tradition. You feed an ongoing fire, to protect the house and the line, invite your ancestors..."

He trailed off, noticing Severus' confusion. "Ah, I see," he said. "You've never even heard of this."

"No, " replied Severus.

"Do you have class this morning?"

"No."

"Come with me."

Severus followed Lucius to Slughorn's office. Lucius tapped his wand against the handle, muttering a few words, and the door swung open to admit him. Slughorn wasn't inside. 

"You can break into Slughorn's office?" asked Severus, impressed.

Lucius laughed. "He gives some students permission to use it."

They sat down, Severus in the same spot he'd sat in when McGonagall brought him there. Lucius settled himself into an armchair, and began to transfigure Slughorn's napkins.

"Samhain," he said, hands waving over the half-melted napkins, "is the time of year where the boundary between our world and that of the dead is at its thinnest. The dead can slip between the worlds easily. The single most important action to take during this time is to protect yourself and your family from malevolent spirits. This is best done by maintaining an ever-burning flame, from sunset on the 30th to dawn on the 1st. Hence, the jar I am carrying. Normally, families would maintain this flame at their homes, but-" He shrugged eloquently. "Hogwarts." The napkins began to take the shape of a jar as he continued. "If you wish, you may also choose to allow certain spirits into your home, usually your ancestors. Assuming you have an ever-burning flame, you will need to invite them in. Place a bit of food - I usually use a slice of apple - in the flame to call spirits to you. Then, take it out of the flame and touch it to your mouth. This will anchor the magic to your words. Then, you recite the names of your ancestors, as far back as you can remember, and invite them to share in your Samhain fire. These are just the basics of the tradition, of course, but there isn't much more you can do at Hogwarts. If you choose to do the ancestor ritual, find a place away from prying eyes - that magic is forbidden on school grounds."

"Will you be doing it?" asked Severus.

Lucius gazed at him coolly, smirking. He finished his transfiguration and cast _Incendio_ , holding the jarred flame out to Severus. Severus took it, almost reverently. "It's charmed not to break easily," said Lucius. 

"Why is the ancestral ritual banned?"

"Explaining that would take more time than either of us have. I'll write you some book recommendations, should you want to learn more about that. You can owl-order them from Obscurus Books' office in Knockturn..." Lucius trailed off, eyes on the patches and rips in Severus' bookbag. "Actually, I can lend them to you. They are charmed to look like potions texts to others."

Grateful for the prefect's tact, Severus cradled the jar to his chest and smiled hesitantly. "Thank you," he said.

"It's my pleasure," replied Lucius. "Hogwarts ought to have a class on wizarding traditions, anyhow."  
_________________

The jar ended up causing Severus no end of trouble. First, the headmaster had caught him in passing, stopping him in the hallway and asking a number of pointed questions about the jar. Severus insisted continuously that he had no idea what it meant, assumed it was a wizarding tradition, and asked the prefects to make one for him. Luckily, Fawcett ran into them, holding a jar of her own, and was able to deflect the headmaster's attentions. 

"Very well," Dumbledore said, looking rather grave. "I do hope you know what you're getting yourself into, my boy." With another meaningful look at Severus, he walked off. 

"Where did you get that, little half-blood?" asked an obviously amused Fawcett.

Severus saw no point in lying, but didn't want to tell her the truth either - despite it being rather obvious that the Malfoys were dark, it somehow felt like a betrayal. He stayed stubbornly silent.

"Won't tell me? Wise decision," she said, laughing. "I hope whoever gave it to you told you about the associated rituals, or it'll be a waste. It's good to see non-purebloods following our traditions, though."

Severus scowled, thinking of Lily. "How on earth are the Muggle-raised supposed to figure this out?"

"You managed," she replied, taken aback. 

"Only by a pureblood's grace," he snapped. "It's easy to miss."

"The Board of Governors has been trying to push some sort of magical traditions curriculum for ages now, you know. It's not like we're trying to keep it from muggle-borns. A few years ago, my brother actually set up a club, but a pack of muggle-borns raised a massive stink and it was shut down. Whatever we do, it has to be below the radar."

Severus deflated, chastened. "That... unfortunately makes sense. No wonder Dumbledore was questioning me."

Fawcett frowned. "Not all purebloods are Blacks, you know. Most wizards know magical traditions belong to magic itself."

Severus' ears perked up. "Is that wizard religion?"

"Religion?" Fawcett looked revolted. "Wizarding tradition has nothing in common with _religion_. You'd never see a wizard paying homage to a magicless plus-sign."

Thankfully, Severus wasn't particularly religious, though Tobias did take the family to church on holidays. "...I see," he replied. "It's, it's actually a symbol. The plus-sign."

She snorted. "Symbols are powerful, but why Muggles choose to imbue cheap wooden grave-markers with their belief is beyond me. Mother says it's some sort of death cult where you're born guilty, and spend your life preparing to die."

Severus was having trouble wrapping his mind around what had to be the oddest description of mainstream Christianity he'd ever heard. "That's- technically true, yes," he admitted, still unsure how she had made it sound so malevolent. To Severus, Christianity was defined mostly by boring sermons, church holiday events, and caroling. He'd never given the esoterica much thought. 

Fawcett seemed to sense she'd surprised him, and retreated to more familiar grounds. "Anyway, as I was saying, not all purebloods are Blacks. I'm genuinely glad you're burning a Samhain flame."

"Thanks," Severus replied, still a bit shell-shocked. 

Later that afternoon, Severus ran into his second spot of jar-related conflict. Predictably, it was Sirius Black who initiated things. Calls of "Put that flame out!" and "You'll never be a pureblood, Snivelly!" followed Severus down the hall. Not feeling up to fighting, he secured his bookbag on his shoulder and made a mad dash for the library. Not even the Marauders would risk Madam Pince's wrath. They made it in just seconds after he did. Breathing a sigh of relief, Severus picked his way through OWL and NEWT students to his and Morrigan's usual table. To his surprise, she was already there. Next to her inkpot was a jar with a flame, same as his. They traded small, secretive smiles.

Severus was beginning to feel like part of a secret club, on the one day of the year they were allowed to wear their badges. Random students with flames traded smiles with him in the hallways, and held staircases for him. The effect was especially pronounced within Slytherin- Rosier and his group of first-years had even invited him to their study group personally, an honor that had not been afforded to him before.

The flame burning at his side, Severus took out his latest reading. Quite conscious of the incongruity, he opened one of the books on nuclear power he'd nicked from the library in Cokeworth. Morrigan said nothing - it was charmed to look like a Transfiguration text thanks to the spell Lucius had taught him that morning, for the books he'd lent him. The spell was also applied to several other books in Severus' bag. If the contents spilled out, other students might think it strange that he had several copies of each of his textbooks. 

The third and final instance of jar-related theatrics that day was, of course, Lily's doing. She tracked him down late that afternoon, dragging him out of the library by force. They ended up in an abandoned classroom.

"You have a jar!" she exclaimed. "Alice told me so but I- I didn't want to believe it..." 

"The fire tradition is actually very interesting-"

"Tell me the truth. Are you a pureblood supremacist now? Do you hate me? Every other conversation we have nowadays is- is- it's not like it was before! You've changed since we came here... you just seem _meaner_."

Severus wasn't quite sure how to respond. The truth was, he had been just as mean before Hogwarts. The only difference was, now that Lily was attending the same school, she could see it. One had to be somewhat callous to survive Spinner's End, but he'd always been careful to hide that from Lily. He'd hoped he wouldn't need that skill at Hogwarts, so she'd never know, but here was an issue he hadn't even considered - that he horrified her. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to reply.

"Lily, I promise you this. I am not, nor will I ever be, a pureblood supremacist. I swear it."

"The _jar_ , Sev- and you're spending time with people like Narcissa Black and Rosier, what am I supposed to think?"

"I can't avoid Slytherin completely."

"But you're taking on their bigotry! All the students with jars are smirking at each other in the hallways, like they're glad that muggle-borns have no idea what's going on-"

"Not at all! Lily, I swear to you it's not that. I had no idea what these were for, either, until a Slytherin prefect explained it to me, and made me one-"

"Oh, how convenient that you have them to tell you-"

Severus sighed, sitting down in a chair and drawing his knees up, resting his cheek on them. The gesture was unusually expressive for him, and Lily noticed, cutting off her tirade. They stared at one another in silence.

"Most of our conversations lately," he said, "have been you disapproving of the things I do to fit into Slytherin. You're my oldest friend, Lils. I'll be your friend forever, whatever happens. Even if all my housemates hate you, or we fight, you can always come to me. Do you see what I'm saying? You'll have my loyalty, until the day you decide you don't want my friendship anymore."

A few tears escaped her eyes, and she scrambled into the chair next to him, giving him an awkward side-hug. "I'll always want to stay friends," she mumbled into his shoulder. "I was just, just worried."

These days, every other conversation with Lily was an absolute mess. Truth be told, Severus was tiring of the constant friction. So was Lily, it seemed. 

"I'm sorry, Sev," she said, drawing back. She stood and placed her hand over her heart formally. "I swear I'll only judge you by you, now. Not by your housemates."

"Thanks, Lily," he replied. "Imagine if I judged you by the Marauders."

That drew a giggle out of her, despite her tearstained face, and Severus hoped that would be the end of it.

He arrived back in the library, and resumed his seat at Morrigan's table. However, he was unable to focus on his book, his eyes drifting over the same page without taking anything in.

"What _was_ that?" asked Morrigan, breaking the silence. 

"What?" 

"Evans! What else?"

Contrary to his usual instincts, Severus felt a pull to confide in Morrigan. She might understand, and he knew he couldn't talk to his housemates about a friendship with a muggle-born. He gave in, explaining what had happened as quietly as he could. At the end of his retelling, she let out an unattractive snort.

"Oh, Evans. Completely clueless, that girl."

Severus bristled. "She's very intelligent! She already won Gryffindor points from Flitwick-"

"That's not what I mean, Severus. Evans is never going to see the same world you see, neither here nor anywhere else."

"What's that supposed to mean? Neither of us are purebloods."

"Even within Slytherin, blood status isn't everything. Evans is popular, obviously. She's _pretty_." Morrigan spat the last word, as if she detested it. "She's sweet, from what I hear, and outgoing. People like us? We're none of those things."

"That's not the only reason people are drawn to her," argued Severus. "She's genuinely virtuous, and pure, she's worthy of all of it."

Morrigan laughed softly. "Maybe so, maybe so. I don't know her well. But do you remember, some time ago, you told me Black had a chat with you about her brother?"

"I remember."

"You'd met her once, and you were full of adjectives. Oh, Narcissa Black is so clever, so graceful, so strong, proud, kind, whatever else it was you said."

"I don't sound like that!" exclaimed Severus, affronted. There was a hiss of _shhh_ from Madam Pince's desk in reply.

Morrigan smirked. "Close enough."

Severus glared at her and pointedly refocused on his book. Correctly assuming he was still listening, she continued.

"Actually, though- you endowed her with all the virtues in the world, because she was pretty. Your pet lioness has the same effect working in her favor. Pureblood or not, she's going to have a softer landing."

Reluctantly, Severus raised his eyes from his book. Loath as he was to admit it, she had a point. "I did build an entire impression of Narcissa in my mind, didn't I," he murmured. "That's strange to realize. At the time, it felt so natural."

"It is natural. Every person is drawn to beauty, don't beat yourself up over it. Just- be aware, the Hogwarts Evans sees is different from yours."

Something in her tone lingered, odd and out of place, in Severus' brain. After they had said their goodbyes, as Severus was eating dinner, it came to him. She'd sounded concerned. Worried, as if she cared how he felt. Perhaps he had made a friend other than Lily.  
___________________

That evening, after a longer-than-usual Halloween dinner, Severus prepared for the ancestors' ritual. He had the _Pure-Blood Directory_ , borrowed from Lucius, and snuck an apple out of the evening feast. His jar was safe inside his bag. It had been a long day, but he'd been burning with excitement for the better part of it. The adrenaline all but erased his exhaustion.

He found a safe spot inside a first-floor closet, and wedged a broom between the floor and the door so he'd have some warning were he interrupted. Then, he carefully opened the lid of the flame-jar and set it across from him. Pulling his Potions knife out of his bag, he cut a careful slice from the apple. He paused a minute, and took a deep breath to calm himself, then opened the _Pure-blood Directory_ to the Prince index. There she was, his mother at the very bottom, marked by an image, name, and sentence - _Eileen Prince, the last of the Prince line_. Last. Severus swallowed, hard, and carefully Leviosa'd the apple slice into the flame. Allowing it to turn brown and crisp, he lifted it out and touched it to his own mouth, and began to read names, starting with his grandparents.

"Erin Prince," he began. His voice had an odd, resonant quality despite its high eleven-year-old pitch. "Gareth Prince. Catrin Prince. Cadell Prince. Orianna Pri-Prince..."

Severus trailed off nervously. The air itself felt weightier around him, and he could feel his magic thrumming in his veins. Instinctively, he reached for his wand. The moment he laid a hand on it, it began to emit soft silver light with multifaceted, curving rays. Simultaneously excited, afraid, and awed, Severus continued listing names, watching the light grow in intensity with each name. 

The Prince family was not part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight pureblood families. As such, Cantankerus Nott (the author of the _Directory_ ) had listed less than ten generations of Prince genealogy. It took Severus about an hour to read off all the names. Once he read the final one, he fell silent, suspended in the moment. 

He jerked suddenly then, feeling a warm brush of air on his cheek. "H-hello?" he asked nervously. "Is anyone there?"

Predictably, nobody responded, but Severus felt he was being laughed at all the same. "Of course they are here," said another voice suddenly. Severus jumped, almost toppling his flame, and saw the Bloody Baron behind him. "You called them," the ghost continued. "And you are of their blood."

"I wasn't sure if I did it correctly..."

"You can feel their presence."

"...Yes. Are you able to speak to them?"

"After a fashion." He regarded Severus coldly. "I will not interpret."

The understanding that reached Severus then stole his breath away. This was all the family he had, gathered around his little jar. If he had anything left to live for besides Eileen and Lily, this was it. Generations upon generations of Princes, coming to a half-blood's fire, him the last of their line. The awareness of being connected to something larger than himself was not usual for Severus. Only magic had given him that, before. But here was something he'd be tied to no matter what, no matter who he became or what he did. An inexorable bond, connecting him to this proud family by blood. He was doubly glad he'd gone through with the ritual.

He looked around for the Bloody Baron, but the ghost had disappeared while he was lost in thought. "Next Samhain," said Severus to the air around him. "I'll find a way for you to speak, should you wish to. Thank you for sharing this Samhain fire with me."

That seemed to be the right thing to say. The light from Severus' wand began to dim, and the air lightened slowly. Severus waited there, playing a solo game of Gobstones to entertain the remaining Princes, until the light on his wand dimmed to nothing. "Goodbye," he said to the now much lighter air. Re-capping his flame, he cleaned up and began to strategize. He'd begun the ritual at midnight (according to Lucius, one's first time performing it was easiest at midnight), so he was out well after curfew. He would have to be careful to sneak back to the dorms without losing points.

Caught up in the excitement of the ritual, he had forgotten to plan his escape beforehand, and was now left with few options. With exhaustion clouding his mind, he decided to take the simplest route. He would sneak along in the shadows, and if a prefect spotted him, he'd run. He had barely any energy left after the adrenaline had worn off. 

Keeping to corners and shadows, he was able to avoid the gazes of Filch and the Ravenclaw prefects. But as he edged through the staircase into the dungeons, he heard a loud "Hey!". Fearing the worst, he ran as fast as he could. 

Unfortunately, the older boy was faster. The Hufflepuff prefect caught his shoulders gently. "Another one? Merlin, how big is this party? Are the flame jars meant to signal invitees or something?"

He was muggle-born, Severus realized. At a magical school for five-odd years and still no idea of the importance of Samhain. He felt a rush of sympathy for what Fawcett had said to him earlier. "Something like that," he muttered.

"What's your name?" the prefect asked. Severus stayed sullenly silent, glaring. 

"I'm Emmett Bones?" he offered. Severus continued glaring.

The boy sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, there have been a lot of Slytherins wandering the halls tonight. I was thinking it's probably best to let Professor Slughorn sleep, so I'm just taking down everyone's names on a list to give him in the morning. Just tell me your name and I'll walk you to your common room, alright?"

Severus did not want to lose the Slytherin goodwill gained from the jarred flame by losing points that very night. He steeled himself, imagining Lily's most pleading expressions, and tried to contort his face into something resembling that. He looked up at Bones, eyes wide and mouth sucked in. Unfortunately, his eyes were too dark and his nose too hooked to pull it off, and Bones just looked concerned. They engaged in an odd staredown for a few minutes until Severus closed his eyes and sighed, his exhaustion setting in.

He didn't realize he'd almost fallen over until he felt arms around him and opened his eyes to see Bones' shocked face. "Merlin, are you all right? Can I take you to the hospital wing?"

"I'm all right," Severus replied. "Just tired."

He allowed Bones to set him on his feet, and focused hard on staying awake and aware. All at once, the corner of a Slytherin robe entered his view. Confused, he raised his head and saw Lucius Malfoy. 

"...not, Emmett," he was saying. "Most likely some older students lured him to a Halloween party. You remember what your own first year was like."

Bones was nodding along. "Fair enough, yeah. In fact, let's take all the first-years off our lists tonight - who knows what they were told."

"Yes, I quite agree," Lucius replied. He stepped up to Severus and took his hand. "Come on now, little snake," he said gently. "Bed."

Bones joined them for the first half of the walk, continuing his conversation with Lucius. "Do you know Ted Tonks? Hufflepuff seventh-year?" 

"No."

"He dated Vera Macmillian, you know- the Puff prefect who graduated last year- and apparently she always needed four or five Wakefulness potions to get through rounds on Halloween night. I'm just so puzzled - how long has this Halloween tradition existed, and how do they manage to keep it a secret from the prefects for so many years?"

Lucius laughed, and Severus heard the undertone of mockery. "Hogwarts' greatest secret, isn't it?"

"Well, we know there _has_ to be some sort of Obliviation involved, because I'm sure that some of the students we caught today are going to be prefects in their fifth year."

At that point, Bones turned off to monitor the empty potions rooms, and Lucius walked Severus the rest of the way to the common room in silence. The moment the portrait door closed behind them, Lucius began to laugh, full belly-laughs that Severus hadn't expected from the Malfoy heir.

"Did you hear him?" asked Lucius. "Hogwarts' greatest mystery!" He dissolved in laughter once more. Severus felt the sides of his mouth tug upwards. "If he just opened a book- one book- Merlin and Nimue-" And then Severus was laughing along with Lucius, because really, a boy so determined to solve this "Hogwarts Secret" couldn't see the answer right under his nose, the simple solution staring him in the face. As their laughter petered out, Lucius waved him off, still snickering. "Go, Snape. Bed."

"Good night," Severus offered, leaving him to his rounds. 

___________________

Just as he'd predicted, Severus woke on Saturday to a series of pleasant surprises. The Samhain flame had somehow morphed him from a tolerated outsider to a true Slytherin. Wilkes showed him his smuggled broom, which apparently the other first-years had all had a turn on late at night, and offered him a go. Evan caught him sitting by the fire and insisted on teaching him to play wizards' chess. Zukovski, the only jar-free Slytherin ( _We do not do this where I am from_ , he'd said) even smiled at him. To top it all off, the entire Slytherin first-year class had begun using his first name, meaning he had to learn their first names in turn. Severus was overjoyed in his quiet way. Morrigan had been absolutely right - for him, a boy too ugly, too awkward, too half-blood, it would be difficult. But here he found Slytherin house was happy to look past that and accept him anyway, if he embraced their traditions. He'd been deprived of a sense of belonging, a sense of home, for so long that he'd forgotten how wonderful it felt to be noticed, to have passive affirmation of his own existence.

It was the best Saturday he'd had in a long time. He picnicked with the other first-years for lunch, and let Avery help him with Transfiguration afterwards. Mulciber was sharing a load of chocolate frogs he'd received from home - apparently his family was somehow involved in confectionery manufacture, which was quite surprising to Severus, who could hardly imagine a less cheery and candy-appropriate heir than Mulciber - and tossed three of them towards him with a yell of "Oi, Snape!"

Even Narcissa stopped by, trailed from some distance by Corban Yaxley. She pulled him away from Ellen's story with an apologetic smile, and told him she was glad he'd figured it out. 

"It was all down to Malfoy," said Severus. "Did you put him up to it?"

"Not in so many words," said Narcissa, smirking. "You are his favorite first year, you know. He just needed a reminder. It is his OWL year, after all."

Severus shook his head, amused and slightly stunned- him, Malfoy's favorite firstie? "By the way," he continued. "You're aware Yaxley is following you around, correct?"

She grimaced. "He used to be head over heels for Bella, but now that she's betrothed to Roddy- Rodolphus Lestrange, a seventh-year- it seems he's set his sights on me instead."

"Malfoy can't get rid of him for you?"

"It seems a silly issue to bother him with. I could certainly curse Corban should he attempt anything untoward."

"Even so," he replied. "I'd find it... intrusive, I suppose."

"No matter," said Narcissa, waving away his concern. "If it becomes intolerable, I shall call on Bella and Lucius. Maybe even Siri, if this is enough to pull him from his shell."

"And me," said Severus, only half-joking.

At that, she laughed brightly. "You little Gryffindor!"

Severus replayed the conversation mentally during the first-years' study group that afternoon, and thoughts of Narcissa reminded him what Morrigan had said. Perhaps, he thought. Perhaps he could bring her to the Slytherin group as well. She was doing better than Severus had been, and seemed to have some Ravenclaw friends, but had professed she never quite felt like she belonged, either. He shelved the thought, settling down to his essay.


	8. Chapter 8

"I remember, Voldemort used Harry's blood to bring himself back. And you hated him for sure, Harry, but- well, you didn't really know your parents, did you? So it's not like you had 'em and then you lost them. So yeah, you hated him, but it was kind of abstract. But bloody Snape must've hated him so personally, for not sparing your mum. Imagine if he'd used Snape's blood."  
\- Ron Weasley, Fall of Voldemort Gala, six years after the war, to Harry Potter and Hermione Granger-Weasley

_____________________

Whatever rumors were spread about Severus Snape, nobody ever called him an optimist. Self-fulfilling prophecy or not, his pessimism was proven correct once again in the lead-up to Yule vacation. Samhain had slotted him into Slytherin quite neatly, but he'd come to realize he still wasn't a true insider. The inclusion as part of the outer circle nevertheless improved his daily life, but he had to admit- Morrigan had been right. Other half-bloods- richer, prettier, more pleasant- had made it in. Painfully aware of this, he hadn't tried to introduce Morrigan to the first-year snakes, even as their companionship grew. 

The Marauders, thankfully, had fixated on a new target after Samhain. Severus regularly caught glimpses of them chasing a lanky Hufflepuff through the castle. He wasn't off their radar completely, but had the dubious honor of no longer being their go-to. This was a reprieve for Lily as well, who professed her relief at not having to fend off their taunts about her befriending him. 

All in all, life was more peaceful than it had ever been for Severus. He and Morrigan were jumping ahead in charms, working through second-year numerological proofs. Bereft of any books on atomic-level magic, Severus was forced to rely on Morrigan's knowledge of general arithmantic prerequisites along with whatever books he could find at Hogwarts. Despite her half-blood status, her family was highly magical. Her pure-blood mother had married a half-blood she'd known at school, and as long as Morrigan married someone with two magical parents, her children would be considered pure-blood. As she explained it, it was a practice accepted by some pureblood families to avoid inbreeding. Luckily for Severus, her parents were very supportive of her precociousness, and agreed to buy her arithmancy texts for Yule.

Severus was musing on his good fortune that morning at breakfast, nibbling idly on a piece of toast, when he felt Lily's familiar tug on his sleeve. She dragged him away from breakfast, eyes bright, clutching her muggle newspaper. 

"You're _never_ going to believe what I just read," she said.

"What? What is it?" 

"They- the Russians- sent a lander to Mars, and Sev- it didn't crash!"

"They _what_?" breathed Severus. "Let me see!"

He took the paper from her. "Merlin," he exclaimed. "They had it land perfectly, and then the bloody _communications_ failed? If they had magic-"

"-that would have been the easiest part!" Lily finished. "I know! They're so close!"

They huddled together, heads down over the paper, lamenting. Had there been just one wizard to charm a small floo onto the lander, they could be watching Mars right now. Contingent on the assumption magic would work at all in space, of course. That particular suspicion Severus did not share with Lily.

The books he'd borrowed from Lucius had planted the conjecture in his mind. Most of them were, at least in part, political and ideological screeds, but a select few revealed what was understood by civilizations past and current about magic itself. Severus' favorite of those was _Fons de Magia_. 

" _Fons de Magia_ is written in English, but retains its Latin title," Lucius had said upon depositing the heavy tome into his arms. "It was translated to English from French, and to French from Latin, and to Latin from Arabic- but most likely, its original language precedes even that. For your own sake, don't try any of the rituals in it. Not many adult wizards are even able to complete them and come out alive."

The first section of _Magia_ was dedicated almost entirely to extremely specific ritual guidelines. When Severus had done the ancestors' ritual, he'd simply picked a random spot. That particular ritual, performed on Samhain, did not require large amounts of power. He'd only been so tired because at eleven, his magic hadn't yet fully developed, and because it was his first ritual- his first time channeling magic with his body instead of his wand. More powerful rituals were usually simply variations on simple formulations. _Magia_ 's extreme specificity was meant to take those formulations to maximum power by aligning with the optimal latitude and longitude, weather, astrological placement, attire, mood, and other such minutiae. Optimizing the conditions of a rite would boost its power, which when directed properly would add functionality to heighten or change its effects. 

The second section was entirely dedicated to uncommon ritual formulations. While novel, those formulations were complex and only worked at high levels of power. Severus could make neither head nor tail of them, and skipped past to the final section. 

The last section of the book was much shorter than the other two. It took Severus barely an hour to read through it, but it was his favorite part. The author had decided to use his last several pages to explain Magic itself (capital M). It was written quite similarly to ancient Muggle religious texts, evidently a wizarding effort to tie exoteric physical and natural symbols to esoteric ideas about magic in a comprehensible manner. The longest verse began:

_Magic of Earth  
at death and at birth-  
spark within a bairn,  
return marked by his cairn._

_Magic of Lune..._

The final words of the book were strangely jumbled, as if the writer had lost himself in his own mind. Neptune's verse ended abruptly, and then:

_...and they all stem from One, from they who are Two who are One, from the light of the midnight sun, light-dark and dark-light and earth-sky and One and Everything, the Fountainhead, they who are One, yet Two, yet Infinity, yet One, yet Two..._

The final pattern was repeated over several pages. To Severus, that entire section of the book was full of clues. The focus on the different aspects of celestial bodies' magic was what clued him in to the possibility that his own magic was Earth-tied. Each verse he could lose himself in contemplation over as well. But the biggest mystery in the book was the end pattern, which somehow resonated with him. It piqued his curiosity for practical purposes as well. _They all stem from One,_ the book had said. If he could identify that One, whatever it was, he'd understand the exact interstellar limits of magic.

The political texts he'd been lent were less directly useful, but much more comprehensible. The modern conception of dark magic, he'd found, was both arbitrary and incomprehensible. Imperius, for example, was considered dark, but Amortentia had the same magnitude of effect and carried a much lesser penalty because it was ostensibly "light". There were some spells that truly seemed to deserve the dark label to Severus, including _Avada Kedavra_. The Killing Curse was dark because it warped "the fabric of Fate" (space-time to Severus) around itself. Even if the moment was altered through a Time-Turner, the Killing Curse warped spacetime itself such that its victim could not under any circumstances escape imminent death. Several interesting cases were listed, including one where a wizard had escaped the _Kedavra_ blow the second time around with a friend's assistance, and made it into a fortified safe-house under Fidelius. A few minutes after they reached the safe house, he died of a heart attack despite his near-perfect health.

However, many spells were labeled dark due to court cases. Immediately after the witch-burnings, when the magical society of the Occident separated from its Muggle counterpart, there was a cultural movement from fearful wizards to cease the usage of powerful forms of magic lest they frighten Muggles and trigger a second burning. There was, of course, resistance from wizards unwilling to give up their traditions. Then, court case after court case, those families were charged with practicing illegal magic, much of which was made illegal ex post facto. Magical governments then began to raid and confiscate valuable artifacts from those families' homes. In 1800, nearly two centuries after the witch burnings, the old families finally won widespread control of the Ministry of Magic (which they'd had a hand in founding in 1707) and were able to protect themselves from intrusion. However, wider attitudes hadn't changed, and they were unable to destigmatize the magic declared "dark". The gradual introduction of the muggle-born into polite wizarding society, the books maintained, would only make this task more difficult- and in the worst case, precipitate a second wave of mass burnings.

The author didn't know how right he was, thought Severus wildly. He didn't know if muggle-borns would exacerbate or preclude Muggles' fear, but if they became afraid- the red horseman of War would ride. Except it wouldn't be burnings this time, it'd be electric atom-splitters. They wouldn't just burn a few wizards and be done with it, no. They'd tear apart the very fabric of the world.  
________________________________________

Later that afternoon, Severus sat in the common room, idly drawing runes on a sheet of parchment. In his mind played that endless refrain, _One, yet Two, yet Infinity, yet One, yet Two..._. He was pulled out of his thoughts by a pat on the head. "Good, good," said Lucius, taking the chair next to him. "You know your runes."

"Morrigan helped me," replied Severus, in no mood to talk. 

Lucius wrinkled his nose, and then, looking confused, brought his hand up to his face and sniffed at it. He looked at Severus quizzically, and leaned in. Severus, horrified by his proximity, leaned back instinctively, but by then it was too late. Lucius had gotten a good whiff of his hair, and his patrician features contorted into a moue of disgust. "Merlin, Morgana, and Nimue, Severus!"

At his exclamation, several others turned to look at them. Lucius consciously lowered his voice. "Come with me. Now," he said. 

"No, why?" said Severus stubbornly.

Lucius' eyes went cold and hard. "It is not a request, Snape."

Sighing, Severus put down his parchment and followed him. They ended up in a room Severus had never seen before, with what looked like a hot tub the size of a swimming pool."

"Now," began Lucius. "I've been smelling something since September. An unpleasant and odorous, but distinctive, smell." He was pacing, faster and faster. Severus had little patience for his theatrics, but decided to wait it out.

"And today," he continued, "I discover that smell is strongest on the scalp of a certain first-year. So, Severus, please answer me honestly. When was the last time you used shampoo?"

Severus' cheeks reddened. "I- I don't use it at home." He'd made a point to use it the first few weeks, trying to fit in, but had gradually forgotten after that, caught up in his own thoughts. His mind retraced those first weeks, remembering how he'd wanted to learn clothing repair spells, buy himself new robes and books. Scowling, he met Lucius' eyes. "I'm not as rich as a Malfoy," he spat. "Or a Black, or even Mulciber. And you can mock me all you like, but I will not spend my time playing a status game I cannot win."

Lucius' eyes widened. "I think you're misunderstanding me. I'm not asking you to enter some sort of- of constantly escalating competition-"

"Arms race," Severus supplied.

"Arms race," said Lucius, tasting the words. "Eloquent turn of phrase."

"It's Muggle," he replied, glaring.

A shadow of revulsion crossed the prefect's face, but he shook it off. "No arms race. I just would like you to adhere to... a certain standard of hygiene. You must see it'd improve your impression within Slytherin."

"I don't care."

Lucius turned towards him then, expression determined. "I'm afraid I must insist." He swept towards Severus, who ducked under his outstretched arm and made a break for the door. Unfortunately, his shorter legs betrayed him yet again, and Lucius lifted him right off the floor. 

"Let. Me. Go!" yelled Severus, trying to hit the prefect in the face.

"Pff- stop that- Stop!" came the reply, Lucius spitting hair out of his mouth. "You _stink_ , Severus! Quite literally!"

His face pressed to a robe-clad shoulder, Severus couldn't see where Lucius was taking him. All at once, he felt a push, and free-fell- right into the swimming pool, which he now realized was a very large bath. His face was underwater, and he spluttered as he stood up, wiping his eyes. "What the _bloody fuck_?" he asked Lucius, robe soaked. Satisfyingly, the splash had soaked Lucius, too. 

"Language," he replied. "This is the prefects' bathroom. The blue tap on the end there dispenses shampoo. There are towels behind the taps, and I've brought a robe for you to change into." He produced a plain black robe and dried it with a quick spell, throwing it over a bench beside them. "I will be waiting outside. If you try to leave and you don't smell like a bloody rose garden, I will lock you in here all night."

Severus' lips twitched at the slang. He'd never expected to hear Lucius Malfoy say "bloody", much less to be the cause of it. The corners of Lucius' frown twitched in response, and he turned away as a smile was threatening to spill out. "I shall leave you to it," he said. "Don't disappoint me."

Severus held in his laughter until the door slammed closed.

The truth was, Lucius didn't deserve his ire. He'd been nothing but tactful about Severus' financial situation, from the Samhain jar to allowing Severus to use him as a library. By the time Severus emerged from the bathroom, shampooed and floral as requested, his anger had abated completely. He opened the door, wet clothes in his arms. "Sorry," he said, spotting Lucius leaning against the wall. 

"Forgotten," he replied. His nose twitched. "Ah, scents of spring. I have many fond memories of the rose garden at home."

They walked back to the dorms in a comfortable silence. Just as they were about to part ways, Lucius spoke up again. "Once a week from now onwards, understand?"

"Yes."  
_____________________________________

It was the morning of Severus' last day at Hogwarts before the new year. He'd briefly staying over the break, but he was guaranteed to face a much more difficult homecoming in the summer if he did. All his dormmates were packed, as was he, and a neat trunk rested at the foot of each bed.

He ascended to the Great Hall, resolving to say a farewell to his... well, friends. Except Lily, who would be all of thirty minutes away back in Cokeworth. His first and most comfortable goodbye was to Morrigan, who insinuated she'd see him on the train anyway. The second was to Narcissa, who thankfully hadn't seemed to have heard about the shampoo incident, and simply complimented his hair. The third and final goodbye was to Lucius. Following that, he endured a round of goodbyes from some not-quite friends - his roommates, Avery, Mulciber, Yaxley, and Greengrass.

At last, he made it onto the train, joining Morrigan in an empty compartment. He swept right past Lily's after spotting her Gryffindor crowd inside. To his surprise, she poked her head out and waved a few other first-year Ravenclaws in. She'd had nothing but complaints to express to Severus about them, but they greeted her as a friend. They were polite enough to Severus, and as the train set off, they were engaged in debate over the Transfiguration curriculum he so despised. 

"I'm glad you decided against messing around with dark magic, though, Morrigan," said the Abbott boy. "Some of the other first-years are still scared of you, but Mary and I are trying to tell them that you've changed."

Morrigan smiled the falsest smile Severus had ever seen from her. "Thanks," she said, studiously avoiding Severus' gaze.

The remainder of the train ride was both long and dull. Severus fell asleep, jolted awake by a poke to the shoulder. "We're at King's Cross," Morrigan said. "Happy Yule, see you next year." She left, unceremoniously, levitating her trunk behind her. 

Severus, surprised and bleary-eyed, stowed his wand away and brought his trunk down the Muggle way. Tobias, he thought, would prefer that. Caught up in Hogwarts, he'd forgotten entirely what he was returning to. The TV shop, if he was lucky, but more of Tobias if he was not. He stepped out onto the platform and saw her, his gray, ghostly mother. She somehow looked even more frail than before. All of his newfound confidence and conviction seemed to melt away under the weight of her gaze. Ponderous and silent, she seemed almost ghostlike to Severus. It was then he recalled the thoughts he'd had, crossing the lake before his fateful Sorting. He'd paid the ferryman, boarded the boat, embarked on banks foreign. He was no longer of Muggles. But where did that leave Eileen? Raised pureblood, married Muggle, and belonging nowhere. It was no wonder she clung to Tobias- he was all she had left.

There was a shred of that, Severus realized, in how he clung to Lily. Though slightly different - Severus often felt Lily was the only person he could ever love. The redhead was on the platform as well, hugging her parents. Severus pointedly avoided the Evanses, and approached his mother. "Let's go," she said, taking his hand.

The train ride back to Cokeworth was quiet. Severus wasn't sure why he had expected anything else. Subconsciously, he'd hoped the tangible reminders of Hogwarts would bring Eileen out of her slump, but it seemed his absence had made things much worse. She had a new, ominous scar crossing the back of her left hand. Severus stared at it as they rode. 

A few buses later, they were back in Spinner's End. Surprisingly, Tobias was home. No sooner had Severus deposited his trunk in a cupboard than Tobias strode right up to him, grabbing him by the collar. Severus inhaled nervously. Being away from him for so long had dulled his memory of the violence, had made him soft. 

"You're home," his father said flatly, sour breath wafting past his nose. Severus made no reply. "You'd better be useful, now. You've given us enough trouble with that ruddy expensive school."

Severus didn't realize until Tobias continued how used he'd become to snipped, cultivated accents like Lucius'. Worse, when he spoke, he realized his voice itself had been adapting throughout the school year to reflect Lucius as well. "My school expenses aren't a problem for you," he said coldly. "So don't behave as if they are."

His father's face twisted. "An accent like a bloody ponce, to boot. Spinner's End not good enough for you, boy?"

As a matter of fact, Spinner's End _wasn't_ good enough. Severus fully intended to leave permanently as soon as possible. He kept his mouth shut, eyeing his father warily. Tobias snorted and turned on a rusty old TV Severus didn't recognize as Eileen led him upstairs. 

"We've had visits," she said, safely ensconced in Severus' room. 

"The bank?"

"Yes, and your uncle."

Severus hadn't heard from Uncle Richard in a long time. He'd been around when Severus was younger, when he and Tobias used to work at the mill together. Then management had cut their hours, and Richard was able to find work in London. Tobias, however, was not so lucky. Just weeks before Richard left, the two of them argued fiercely day and night, and once Richard boarded the train, he hadn't been back - until now, apparently. "What was he doing here?"

"He came to give us the TV, and- and to tell your father that they're hiring. At a London steelworks." Eileen didn't even sound hopeful. Tobias had been on a downward spiral for years, and hadn't even managed to land a better job in Cokeworth itself. 

Seeing his mother after so long refreshed all of Severus' arguments, and he started in. "Why don't we just leave? We'll have enough money, if we use the contents of the vault, and we could even live in the wizarding world, you could work somewhere in Diagon Alley-"

But Eileen was already shaking her head, dashing his hopes. "No, no, Severus... my wandwork isn't what it used to be..."

He began to block off hope once again. Eileen was the same as she'd ever been. If anything was going to change, Severus would have to change it himself. He turned his wand over and over in his fingers, tuning Eileen out. He had power now. Visions of killing his father flashed before his eyes, but he quickly dismissed them. He thought of memory-charming Eileen and Tobias, as Lucius had threatened him with. If he could alter her memory to make her think she'd already divorced him- he could give Tobias a completely new identity, make Eileen think he was dead. Severus shelved the idea, hoping he'd remember to investigate it once school was back in session. 

At some point, Eileen had left, and he was alone in his room. Thankful for the reprieve, he rummaged around in his bag, reaching for the "For Hogwarts Memories" scrapbook, leafing through it and watching each short loop in turn. 

Unfortunately, the next morning, he awoke to shouts yet again- only this time, they were arguing about magic, about the wizarding world, about him. He didn't want to hear it. Severus got dressed quickly and cracked his window open. He carefully stepped out onto the low roof, making his way slowly across the ice. He slid down to the edge, and grabbed it with his gloved hands. Dangling from the roof, he carefully dropped down the remaining seven feet to the ground. He landed in a bush, and got up and dusted himself off. Conscious of the cold, he walked quickly to the TV store. It hadn't changed much. The display was the same, minus the Christmas sale at the front, and he was able to resume his usual spot and lose himself in programmes again, for which he was grateful.  
__________________________________

Spinner's End at Christmas held a certain beauty. Not the beauty one would expect of better neighborhoods, with lights and decorations and happy, red-cheeked children. Spinner's End, rather, looked like a scene from the Norse _Fimbulvinter_ , the final winter before the end of the world. Over the years, the houses surrounding his had emptied out as family after family left town. The buildings themselves weren't maintained and had slowly fallen into disrepair. As a child, Severus used to explore those buildings, finding odds and ends of the lives the previous inhabitants had left behind. 

At Christmas, all the abandoned buildings were covered in snow, slowly growing mildew in the coming spring. Eddies of wind and snow would whisper through the dilapidated, rotting structures, lending the entire area a ghostly air. As satisfying as it was to a child looking for adventure, it did not lend itself to Christmas cheer. Severus was further dispirited by the reminder of how well he belonged. His environment had shaped him into an echo of itself- he was an abandoned house, wind whistling through his bones, until Lily had lit that first candle. 

Nevertheless, the remaining inhabitants of Spinner's End fought the good fight. Lonely wreaths hung on the few inhabited doors, and the local bar even decorated a tree with beer caps and shot glasses. Severus himself was planning on commemorating Yule with more rituals from Lucius' books- but first, there was the matter of church. Neither Tobias nor Eileen were devout Christians, but Tobias would inevitably insist on church for Easters and Christmases. They'd go, Tobias and himself in black suits and Eileen in her frayed robin's egg-blue dress, and pretend to be a loving family for a few hours. 

However, when Severus arrived in his too-small suit, he realized he wasn't able to tune out the sermon any longer. Every phrase issuing forth from the pastor's thin mouth was an affront to what he'd read in _Fons de Magia_. Gritting his teeth, he resolved to stay silent. Tobias wouldn't appreciate him acting up on the one day of the year he wanted to behave as a family. 

After church, when Tobias left, he questioned Eileen about it, but she had no patience for him. "Does it matter?" she asked. "We get help from the church, Sev. For food, when your father can't pick up enough shifts. It doesn't matter whether they're right or wrong."

 _It does matter_ , Severus wanted to say. As he'd learned, pouring belief into something lent it power. But he swallowed his thoughts yet again, setting them on paper for a letter to Morrigan instead. He followed up with one for Lily, tying that one with a lovely red satin ribbon he'd nicked from Evan. He wrapped Lily's gift carefully in an old newspaper and tucked that into the box as well. 

He'd been planning Lily's present since October. He'd seen upperclassmen using perfume that changed with their mood, and he'd wanted to gift that to Lily, but it had been too expensive to buy retail. Since then, he'd taken on the task of making his own. Luckily, the base ingredients for perfumes were uncomplicated and cheap, so he was able to steal them from the Potions stores without Slughorn being any the wiser. With the help of the library, he managed to brew it successfully, though the testing process had been nothing but embarrassing. He'd run around smelling like bloody flowers for weeks. What he was going to do for Lily's birthday, he didn't know. His present for Morrigan was much easier. He sent her the remaining ribbons he'd stolen, charmed to sparkle and hiss when stroked. They'd likely arrive a little late for Christmas proper, but he'd completely forgotten the date. 

Their presents to him, however, arrived right on time. Lily's, a book on magical insulation, was predictable and very exciting. Severus was satisfied to see Morrigan's was a new quill set, a gift just as impersonal as the one he'd just sent her. The simplicity ensured he wouldn't seem a miser by comparison, and relieved him of the pressure he'd been feeling.

Of the Snape Christmas tradition there wasn't much to say. Women from the church came by with gingerbread cookies and a Santa hat for Severus, and Tobias dragged a small brown tree into the house. They pulled out some rather battered tinsel, and Eileen wound it around the tree. Tobias gave her a scarf, and she gave him a shirt. Severus gave them both cards, and received in return a white button-up shirt to replace the one inside his suit. Despite the exchange of gifts, the entire affair felt perfunctory. Tobias had been sober for almost a week at that point, and he and Eileen were wrapped up in each other like newlyweds. Neither was paying Severus much attention. This was all for the best, as his Yuletide rituals went completely unnoticed. Lucius, he thought, would be proud of him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is late! i usually try to update more-or-less weekly, but occasionally life happens

"It must feel awful- we used to torment him, you know, all through school. I've tried to apologize, but he has no interest in hearing it. And now, he's forced to make me Wolfsbane every month under Albus' orders. I've told Albus if Snape wants to stop, I can find another supplier, but the truth is I can't afford anything else. It's an incredibly complex potion. I just wish there was some way to apologize..."

\- Remus Lupin to Nymphadora Tonks, Harry Potter's fifth year at Hogwarts

_________________________________

Tobias and Eileen remained on their Christmas-fueled upswing until it was time for school to start again. A happier, calmer Eileen sat next to Severus on the London express train, braiding her hair and humming to herself. Severus was relieved he wouldn't be around for the inevitable downswing. 

"Mother?" he asked.

"Yes, darling?"

_Darling_ , indeed. The thrash of his parents' relationship gave him whiplash sometimes. "May I stay at Hogwarts for future Christmases? I've been doing extra credit work in my classes, and it seems a shame to miss that-" he choked on his words. Eileen was practically beaming down at him, wearing an expression he hadn't seen for years. 

"My clever Severus," she said, tucking a loose piece of his hair behind his ear. He was torn between horror and fascination- but a small, deeply-hidden part of himself that yearned for his mother's affection soaked it up like a sponge. Disgusted with himself, he held very still until she removed her hand. "Of course you can. Be sure to write often, won't you?"

______________________________________

Rosier called Severus into his compartment, this time, and he sat amongst the gaggle of young purebloods comparing Yule gifts. They whirled and spun around him, passing from hand to hand and whizzing through the air. The bangs and smells of new games permeated the compartment, and Ellen Yaxley put her thick cashmere scarf around his neck so she could dig her new diamond necklace out of a satchel. Despite the clear, alienating display of wealth, it was the most celebratory Severus had felt all winter. He gently petted the scarf around his neck, wondering at the texture. Nobody in the compartment was paying attention to him, particularly - he was one of them, but not, Slytherin and a Prince but halfblooded- but the atmosphere washed over him like a warm blanket. He would impress, he decided. He had the power of a Prince. Though he didn't have a place in Slytherin, he had a foothold, and from there he'd make his own way upwards.

Recovering from their Yule excitement, the first-years settled back into the rhythm of Hogwarts, rather more calmly than they had in September. Social status games and friend groups had settled down for the moment, and as the prefects had predicted, the first-years were no longer running wild with their newfound freedom... well, most of them, anyway. The Marauders were still at large, though Severus thankfully continued to escape their notice. The first week back, Sirius Black was particularly vicious, taking his family problems out on unsuspecting victims. Narcissa noticed, of course. 

"I tried to tell him," she confessed. It was midnight on the first Sunday of term, and they were sitting in armchairs next to the fire. "We're a dark family, obviously. But he doesn't need to disavow us to become a light wizard, if that's what he wants. We still love Aunt Lucretia, even though she married a Prewett! It doesn't _matter_. Family is all that matters."

Severus schooled his own features as thoughts of his own family filled his thoughts. However, Narcissa was attentive, and saw his not-quite-grimace. "You disagree, Severus?" she asked mournfully. "What are you and Siri thinking?"

Severus met her eyes, his thin lips pressing together. Loath as he was to defend Black, there were truths Narcissa hadn't realized. "I don't believe-" he coughed, and had to start over. "I don't believe family always matters. I don't know what yours is like, particularly, but mine is- mine is tumultuous. There've been no disavowals, nothing that melodramatic, but sometimes-" He looked down, carefully avoiding Narcissa's eyes. "Sometimes, family simply weighs you down. Even if they don't mean to. It's- when you're around them, your dreams don't have any space to rise, you're..."

He took a deep breath and continued. "You're consumed by the now, by their expectations and weights and dramas, and you can't see any other futures." Severus felt her gaze on him, and struggled with his emotions. 

"Lucius is offering you another future, you know," she said softly. "So am I."

"I think I've realized," he said slowly, "what kind of future you're offering. And I admit, I'm interested. But," he continued, "you know Lucius gave me _Magic and the Occident_ , among other books, to read."

"You seemed to love _Magia_."

"I did. But the other ones, the political ones- Malfoys, Blacks, other dark families are still targeted by the Ministry to this day." He leaned forward and looked into her eyes. "I am not a pureblood," he said flatly. "I am not rich. I have no connections. If I were to take this up, outside the inherent protection of Slytherin house..." He leaned back, allowing her a moment to understand his conclusions.

"That's wrong," hissed Narcissa vehemently. "It's wrong that you are going to deny yourself the beauty of magic because your family doesn't have money." She pointedly ignored his comment on his blood status, and Severus mentally rolled his eyes. The Blacks made the Malfoys look downright progressive. 

"And you could find protection," she continued. 

"From whom?" asked Severus reasonably. "Not your family, surely. The Malfoys? Somehow I doubt that."

"From someone greater than any single family," said Narcissa, her eyes shining. "Someone my parents know, who's uniting us all to preserve magical tradition, to restore our freedom."

Severus frowned. "Someone's leading a movement? A dark magic revival?"

Narcissa leaned in, Severus unconsciously mirroring her. "More than that," she whispered. "A revolution!"

Severus sighed and leaned back again, slouching against the couch. " _Monuments rise, monuments fall,_ " he said, quoting _Fons de Magia_. " _And the great wheel turns, over an eternity of time_."

"Don't give me that, you know that's no excuse for apathy. _Magic rewards the wizard who creates reality_ ," she quoted back to him. 

"I know," he replied. "Sorry. I mean to say, I cannot just take your word that this friend of your parents' will protect me."

She cocked an eyebrow in response. "Remember the anti-Squib protests, a few years ago?"

"...No, I was living in the Muggle world, remember?"

Narcissa had the grace to blush. "Many pure families marched in protests against allowing Squibs normal rights in wizarding society- after all, how are the nonmagical supposed to make decisions for an entirely magical society?"

"Um- sure," said Severus. He had no opinion on Squib rights.

"Well," she continued. "That was when the frustrations about muggle-borns changing wizarding society also boiled over, but in private. My family, and Lucius', and others, we've all united around a leader. And you may not believe that this person exists, or could protect you right now, but you should really pay attention to what's going on around you. I think you'll see the tides have already shifted. If you lived in the magical world, you'd have realized already- the strange, scattered disappearances listed in the _Prophet_ are _not coincidental_ , Severus."

A frisson of ice ran down his spine. This was a dangerous world, and he'd been wandering around, Samhain jar in hand, like an absolute dimwit. He'd seen the disappearances in Rosier's paper, and hadn't thought twice about them- the only part of the wizarding world he interacted with was Hogwarts, a safe, warm bubble where he could bury his head in a book and play at schoolboy intrigues. "I- I need to look into this," he said, stumbling over his words. "Apologies, I'll see you later, Narcissa?"

Smiling, she waved him off.

The next morning, Severus rose early and spent several hours poring over back issues of the _Daily Prophet_ in the library, skipping Potions and Charms. It'd do no harm, he was already far ahead of the class in both. His horror grew as he read over each disappearance - they were carefully staged to seem like random accidents, but Narcissa had handed him a key piece of the puzzle. They were certainly connected, and certainly strategic. Working from that assumption, and from his knowledge of dark families' beliefs, Severus carefully backtraced the disappearances to Wizengamot votes, scheduled trials, announced raids. Only one in every fifteen or so disappearances had a clear backtrace, far too little evidence for any prosecutor. However, it was more than enough for Severus. The pattern was very weak, but it was _there_ , and he only had access to publicly known information. He suddenly felt lightheaded- he'd stumbled onto something far more dangerous than he'd imagined. But perhaps also far more beneficial.

His mind spun back to Spinner's End, thinking of the gangs that sometimes commandeered the bar, forcing Tobias to return home. Narcissa and Lucius were no tattooed thugs, but they were offering him a more refined version of that same power, through whatever mysterious man was behind it all. Severus didn't usually imagine himself with that kind of collective power. His fantasies centered around building himself to greater heights, having a nuclear warhead in his own hands. He'd never imagined he'd be accepted into a group in the first place, but that was the basis of Narcissa's offer.

Collective power would come far easier, if he already had that path in. And truth be told, the feeling of belonging, of company, staggered him. For Severus Snape, friends would always be hard to come by. He owled Narcissa, later that day. 

_Can I think about it? SS_

Lucius pulled him away from dinner that evening, herding him right into Slughorn's office. 

"Narcissa shouldn't have said so much," he began. "You're still a first-year. But I understand you weren't sure about continuing with... certain types of magic."

"Does this mean it's off the table?" asked Severus, obscurely disappointed.

"Not at all. Regarding your owl, you may think about it as long as you like. For years, even. Officially speaking, if you were accepted, you would need to be of age. Even Narcissa and I are not yet formally accepted. Unofficially, you may decide anytime you like."

Severus relaxed. He could put it off until he was seventeen. "In that case, I think I'd like to continue studying. Slytherin House is safe enough." His tone was flat, but it was a question- _Will I disappear? Will the Ministry catch me?_

Satisfaction gleamed in Lucius' eyes. "Greatest of the Hogwarts Four," he intoned. "Slytherins protect their own." 

Severus smirked. So that was a _No_. He'd have Slytherin's protection for now, and he was free to study dark magic within Hogwarts' walls.

_____________________________________

Severus left Potions on Friday, irritated at Slughorn and the world in general. They were making Antidote To Common Poisons. It was painful for Severus, poor as his family was, to watch other students waste expensive ingredients like unicorn horn and bezoar as they botched their potions. He himself had devised an alternate formulation after realizing his extracurricular potions experiments were draining his ingredient supply. He'd wandered all over the greenhouses, nicking whatever he could, and followed Jigger's component formulae to devise a cheaper version of the potion. He could use a quarter of the requisite powdered bezoar, and no unicorn horn at all. The missing ingredients were replaced with lavender essence, stewed mandrake, mint, and watered-down honey- all ingredients he could obtain easily. Naturally, he'd hidden his substitute ingredients from Slughorn's gaze, but the man had caught him adding just one mistletoe berry (rather than the usual two) and had cheerfully corrected him, dropping a second in his potion. He was forced to recalibrate and use more bezoar than he'd wanted to in order to fix it.

He desperately needed to save his potions ingredients to make Lily's birthday gift, though he knew topping his Christmas gift to her would be difficult. He'd successfully brewed Sleeping Draught already, jumping almost a year ahead in the Potions curriculum- for Lily, he wanted to modify it to allow her lucid dreams about a topic of her choosing. The second part, he thought, would be much trickier than the first. Allowing Lily to choose the topic meant he had to delve into oneiromancy texts, but modify even those. He wasn't trying to show her the future, after all. 

To solve the problem faster, he decided to go to the Divination wing and find Professor Patil. He climbed all the way up to her office, a dreamy vine-lined room with enormous windows and burning incense, sat down on tasseled cushions, and asked for her help. Her dark eyes watched him, sharp and appraising, and her fingers moved constantly on the circle of beads in her left hand.

"You are not ready for oneiromancy, Mr. Snape," she said.

"Why not?"

She ignored his question. "You think you can figure it out. But just because you are a year ahead in Potions, Charms, and Defense does not mean you are ready."

Severus blanched. "How did you know that?" he asked, voice shaking. Not even his professors in those very subjects knew that. 

Professor Patil threw her head back and laughed. "I can see the books inside your _bag_ , little snake! There is your first lesson in Divination. The environment around you reveals much more than you realize, if you have the mindfulness to notice it."

He blushed, pulling his bag towards himself. "Still, why not?" he asked again.

She looked at him, speculatively. "I was a Ravenclaw when I went to school here, you know." 

"Oh," Severus replied, confused. Then, apropos of nothing, she quoted _Magia_ to him, the same line he'd used on Narcissa earlier.

" _The great wheel turns, over an eternity of time_ ," she said, watching him carefully.

"I- what-"

"You recognize that, I think," said Patil. "Do you understand the last page?"

It appeared in Severus' mind's eye- _One, yet Two, yet Infinity, yet One, yet Two, yet Infinity_... "No," he admitted. "Not yet."

"Reach out with your magic," she said. "Your magic, not your wand. Then you will begin to understand. Only once you understand fully will oneiromantic magic work for you. Ever wonder why there are no light oneiromancers, despite it being light magic?"

"But then- the potion- what should I do?" he asked, still shell-shocked she'd known of _Fons de Magia_.

"Just use chrysanthemum petals," she said. "Miss Evans will dream of beauty, joy, and friendship."

"...I didn't tell you the potion was for her."

Professor Patil simply smiled at him.

Despite the strange lightheadedness he experienced, descending from her office, he was glad he'd gone. Chrysanthemum petals did seem like the ideal solution, and they would be very quick to add. He'd already worked out how to reverse the dreamlessness (simply remove the flobberworm mucous), so all that was left was adding lucidity.

He thanked his lucky stars once again that Slughorn allowed Slytherins (and select upperclassmen from other houses) after-hours access to the Potions classroom. The room had become Severus' refuge away from the fraught socialization of the common room, a space where he could simply brew in silence.

Today, however, he was not going there. He was meeting Lily again. The very thought put a spring in his step and a smile on his face. They'd managed it! Stayed friends throughout their hectic first semester at Hogwarts. 

That day, she regaled him with stories of how she and her roommates were trying to build a snowman taller than the groundskeeper, Hagrid. Their work-in-progress was visible from quite a distance, the body and base that they'd built partially protected from southerly winds by Hagrid's shed. The four girls would huddle inside the shed and poke their wands out, levitating and pressing heaps of snow together to form the snowman's body. After just a week, it had already reached quite an impressive size. Severus took photos of Lily next to the unfinished snowman, reaching up to show its expansive height. 

"I think it'll be finished on Sunday morning," she said, looking up at it. "All that's left is the head, and we're going to work on it all day tomorrow. Will you come after breakfast to see it? On Sunday, I mean."

"Of course," he replied.  
____________________________________

When Sunday (incidentally, his birthday) came, he found himself standing outside in a crowd of Gryffindors, awaiting the ceremonial "nosing" of the snowman, holding onto Lily's camera. It was tall, almost twice the height of the shed, and absolutely massive. It was truly impressive work. Severus would bet Lily and her roommates had the best aim of their entire year, with all that levitation practice.

The four girls stood before the snowman, looking up at it. The snowman had enormous tree-arms and black eyes and coat buttons. Severus peered at it, but couldn't see clearly what they were made out of. Indeed, all that was missing was the nose.

Then, Fortescue turned to address the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen!" she yelled. "Welcome to the nosing ceremony of Frodric Frostindor, Godric Gryffindor's long-forgotten cousin!"

The spectators stamped their feet and cheered wildly. Fortescue reached into her pocket and pulled out a normal-sized carrot. Then, the four girls pointed their wands at it. "Engorgio!" they chorused, and both they and the crowd stepped back hastily as the carrot rapidly expanded. Severus mentally congratulated Lily- Engorgio was a second-year spell, and they'd had the guts to do it before a crowd.

At last, Jones seemed to decide the carrot was big enough. Once she cut off her spell, the other three followed suit, and then Fortescue did the next countdown. "Three," she said, "two, one, Wingardium Leviosa!"

And the enormous carrot-nose rose into the air, and four wands deftly guided it into the middle of Frodric's face. They pushed it in about a third of the way, and then held still, trying to ascertain if it was stable. The crowd was waiting with bated breath. Then, one by one, the girls cancelled their levitation charms, and sure enough, the nose stayed secure. Cheers erupted once again, the crowd exploding with yells of "Frodric! Frodric!"

Utterly charmed by the display, Severus could do naught but smile. Frodric was, for the moment, Gryffindor's new hero. Even the Marauders were ignoring Severus, sticking out like a sore thumb in the red-clad crowd, in favor of yelling the snowman's name. 

Much to his satisfaction, Severus had immortalized every memory of Frosty's nosing using Lily's camera. He wanted to add this memory to the scrapbook, which he'd privately come to think of as the Lily-book. Every picture inside was of her, after all. He wanted to save this moment, to remind him of how beautiful Lily was, how natural it was for her to create joy and draw people to her. 

He remained on the edges of the cheering crowd, waited as they finished cheering, began to get cold, slowly depart for the warmth of the castle. He needed to catch Lily alone, of course, to return her camera and give her her pictures. However, to his surprise, she came up to him first.

"Thanks for coming, Sev!" She was red-cheeked, panting with exertion from running around Frodric with her friends. 

"Frodric is...incredible," he said. "Congratulations, Lily."

Lily grinned widely. "Who'd have guessed the way to impress Severus Snape was by building giant snowmen?"

That startled a laugh out of him. "The bigger the better," he bantered back. "Oh, wait," he continued. "Your camera, and the photos-"

"No, keep them for now! My hands are all wet from the snow. Can you meet me in that empty classroom on the sixth floor after dinner? I can take them back then, if that works."

"All right," he replied.

Lily jogged back into the castle, following her classmates' snow-tracks, but Severus walked the longer route directly towards the Great Hall. Lunch would be starting soon, and he wanted to nick a piece of cake so he could celebrate his birthday in bed. At Spinner's End, he would always gradually steal enough money from Tobias to buy himself a slice of cake the night before his birthday. It was always a toss-up whether his parents would remember it, so he'd use the cake for a private celebration in the morning, all by himself, while his parents were asleep. He'd sit up in bed and open the cake, piercing it with a toothpick he pretended was a candle, and hum the birthday song to himself. Then, he would eat it and dispose of the evidence before Tobias found it. Anxious to repeat the tradition, he walked a little faster.  
________________________________

Had Severus known what would await him, he would have reconsidered going to meet Lily that evening. But he went, with her camera in one pocket and her photos in the other. When he reached the classroom, it was still empty - Lily was probably still at dinner. He sat down in a random desk to wait-

-and the two closets on either side of the lectern popped open with a loud cry of "SURPRISE!". Stunned, Severus jumped in his seat, banging his knee on the bottom of the desk. 

"Merlin! Lily?" he asked, looking at her and then at the small box in her hands. 

"Happy birthday, Sev!" she exclaimed. "You didn't think I forgot, did you?"

"I-" he turned around, wondering who was in the second closet. "What? _Morrigan_?"

The Ravenclaw was scowling, her cheeks slightly red. "Your pet lion locked me in that closet for ages."

Lily turned to Morrigan, smiling awkwardly. "Ah- I'm sorry, I just thought- um, it might be nice?"

Morrigan gave an amused huff, which did nothing to settle Lily's nerves. "Happy birthday, Severus," she said. 

"...Thanks," he replied. "I didn't know you two knew each other."

"We don't," replied Morrigan. "She tracked me down outside the Ravenclaw common room."

"This is really very nice of you," said Severus awkwardly. Lily was opening the box in her hands, which contained several slices of the dessert cake from dinner. She'd also managed to procure candles, which she lit with a touch of her wand. They sang the song, and ate cake, making small talk about classes and Quidditch and Frodric, news of whom had passed to other houses by word of mouth. At last, Morrigan bid Severus a happy twelfth again and left, leaving him and Lily alone. 

"I cannot believe," he said, "that you convinced Morrigan to hide in a closet."

Lily smirked. "I said she didn't have to do it if she got you a gift, but she didn't. So this was her way of making up for it."

"Oh no, now I'll have to get her a gift- or hide in a closet. I don't even know when her birthday is."

"Why not?" she asked, concerned. "You're friends, right?"

"Well, yes," Severus replied. "It's just that neither of us are very sociable people."

"You're sociable with me!"

Try as he might, Severus could not come up with a good answer to that. Here, now, with her, he was simply happy. His best friend had remembered his birthday, roped Morrigan into showing up, brought him cake, set up an entire surprise. It was more than anyone else had done for him before.

"Thank you, Lily," he said.  
______________________________

The next day, his study session with Morrigan was a little awkward. She broke the silence first, with a strong opening salvo.

"Lily and I had a nice chat about you, you know."

"Oh, Merlin." Severus paled. "You didn't tell her about our, our extracurricular studies, did you?"

She looked taken aback. "No! No, nothing like that. I just found out all the little details of your heritage. I never knew your mother was Eileen Prince. There's a picture of her right next to my usual table in the library, apparently she captained the Hogwarts Gobstones team."

"Yes," he replied. "She did."

"Strong pureblood name, the Princes," she said, watching his reaction carefully. "Not exactly captains of industry, but pure as the Blacks."

Severus' throat tightened, and he merely nodded once, stiffly. "My mother was the last Prince."

"No, she's not the last Prince," said Morrigan thoughtfully. "That's you, even though you're a half-blood. You're the only half-blood Prince."

"Half-blood Prince," echoed Severus rigidly. "Perhaps, if the Princes accepted me."

The Ravenclaw gave him a stern look. "What do you mean _if_? You did the ancestral ritual, and it worked for you, didn't it? You are a Prince. Your ancestors have already accepted you."

"Good point."

"Admit it, Severus, and be proud of it," she replied. "No half-blood can make it in this world waiting for the day some pureblood sot declares them pure enough. And anyway, you're the last Prince standing."

Severus was over-full with emotion, so much that he felt completely dissociated, his ears ringing. He reached into his bag, and pulled out a textbook at random. It was his used Potions text, marked with his cramped writing in the corners, dog-eared and abused, and unquestionably his. He opened the cover, and took a quill to the inside, Morrigan watching his every move.

In dark, indelible ink, he scrawled: _Property of the Half-Blood Prince_. Morrigan's face broke into a grin.


	10. Chapter 10

"Yes, The Dark Lord is going to mark Snape, because unlike you, Bella, he understands the importance of blood. Severus is both highly skilled and half pure, and he possesses the right mindset with regards to Muggles and Mudbloods. Blood will out, and in his case, the Prince blood clearly has."  
\- Lucius Malfoy to Bellatrix Lestrange, Severus Snape's 7th year at Hogwarts  
___________________________

As his second semester at Hogwarts continued, Severus was increasingly disenchanted with classes. History of Magic, he'd found, was neatly replaced by Lucius' books. In Potions, Charms, and Defence he'd already advanced far ahead of his classmates - in the latter two, thankfully the professors would let him self-study in class once he'd demonstrated competence. However, in Potions, he was forced to wait for his simple brew to finish stewing. He amused himself there by toying with the recipes even more than he already had. He'd found if he shielded his cauldron and brewed something on the side with strong fumes, he could (with the right components) get the fumes to ruin the Marauders' potions, which was extremely gratifying. The rest of his classes he was intellectually engaged in, but this meant he had about half the effective courseload of the other first-years. However, any extra time he had was taken up by his increasing obsession over _Fons de Magia_. 

Severus had always used space as an escape from his home life. But at Hogwarts, it was bittersweet. The charms necessary to propel a camera into space, the potions necessary to enable it to send footage back to earth, were standard, although beyond the reach of a first-year. He was certain he'd learn them all well enough by the time he took his OWLs. His dream felt very close, yet very far- would the magic work away from Earth?

His first port of call was Corban Yaxley. Brooms worked, didn't they? Severus hid behind the bleachers, catching Yaxley leaving Quidditch practice. The Chaser was ripping off his arm-guards, Cleansweep thrown over his shoulder, as Severus approached him. 

"Hello, Yaxley?" he began, awkwardly. "I've been thinking- maybe Slytherin needs some improvements to our brooms, to help us win the Cup-"

"You think you're going to _improve_ my broom? Aren't you a first-year?"

"Yes, I'm Snape-"

"Wait, I know you. You're always talking to Narcissa."

"-I don't know about always, but-"

"Lucius said you were remarkably clever." Yaxley was watching him consideringly.

"...did he?" squeaked Severus.

"Maybe you can help with our brooms after all." That conclusion was enough for Yaxley, who began nattering on about the benefits and drawbacks of his model of Cleansweep, and Slytherin's plays. Uninterested, Severus adopted his best Ravenclaw manner. 

"That's not what I need to know, just yet. Will you start by showing me the limits of your broom? For example, how high vertically can you fly before the enchantments start having issues?" Severus grimaced internally, aware he was lacking in subtlety. Fortunately, Yaxley seemed too excited to question him. 

"No idea," he replied. "Let's find out?" They walked back onto the pitch, and Yaxley patted the back of his broom. 

"Well, hop on then." Severus was horrified. He'd intended to give Yaxley a charm to monitor his distance from the ground. The other boy must have noticed his moue of disgust, for he changed tactics. "Scared?" he asked.

Despite himself, Severus scowled and hopped on, gingerly hanging onto Yaxley's shoulders with his left hand, and pulled his wand out with his right, casting the monitoring charm, along with the strongest shields and warming charms he knew. "Just fly already."

With that, Yaxley kicked off, accelerating quickly. Severus cursed, and held on tighter. The Cleansweep was much faster than the school brooms. 

According to the charm, they were traveling at a sixty miles per hour, Yaxley no doubt showing off. They flew, up and up and up, and the charm ticked off mile after mile. Severus' fear grew as they climbed higher and higher, through layers of cloud cover. The further they went, the worse the winds became - Severus' shield protected them from wind-burn, but the strength of the gales began to buffet the broom back and forth, threatening to throw them off. 

Severus began to panic, pouring more power into his shields. Yaxley, cautiously grabbing his wand, joined him. The broom began to steady again. "Dumbledore's saggy robes, that was close," said the other boy. 

"Let's go a little higher," Severus replied. "I can hold the shields."

And hold them he did, as they continued climbing. Despite his efforts, the wind was blowing them west rather quickly. 

Finally, they burst through the cloud cover, and Yaxley slowed down and stopped. It was a sad, gray day back at Hogwarts, but here, above the clouds, the sun was shining brightly. "This is _incredible_ ," Yaxley breathed, looking around at the shining white clouds. Severus, who had never seen anything like this, was similarly stunned. 

"Merlin," he said, grinning. "We've- we've bloody left _Earth_ , Yaxley!"

"Corban to you, clever little bugger!"

He whooped, tilting the broom again, and Severus held on, hard, as he went in for several loops through the sunshine and cloud-tops, following the direction of the wind. "Is the broom still working well?" Severus shouted in his ear. 

"It's shaking a bit- I can still control it!" yelled Corban, diving through the clouds again. "But I'm bloody cold!" 

Severus cast warming charms on them both in response. Here he was, in Earth's atmosphere. He marveled at it all, a world with just him and the sun and the clouds, and his no-longer-reluctant pilot. But just as he began to relax, horror slowly crept in like ice along his spine. He'd re-cast the warming charms, but he was still _cold_. 

"Yaxley!" he yelled, urgently. "Yaxley, we have to go down! The magic is failing!"

" _What?_ " shrieked the other boy, pulling up short. "Magic is _what_?"

"Let's just go!" shouted Severus, hitting his shoulders. "Quickly!"

Corban wasted no more time, pointing the broom downwards and speeding towards the ground. Severus hung on as hard as he could, pouring all his power into maintaining their shields. As they broke back through the cloud cover, the warming charm began working again, and both boys relaxed. Corban set a more sedate pace, flying the rest of the way downwards, and as they began to skim the tops of tall buildings, Severus released his shields with a sigh of exhausted relief. They landed in a large, open field next to a herd of cows, and fell to the ground, exhausted. 

"Ugh," Corban groaned. "That was a workout. I can't move."

"I'm never casting a shield charm again," Severus groused, pressing his face into the dirt. A cow lowed loudly at the two of them, and he sighed.

"We're not at Hogwarts, are we?"

"I think-" began Severus, sitting up and looking around, "I think we're in Ireland."  
_______________________________

After Corban had finished cursing Severus' name, they set off walking. Their outfits and the broom made them look rather odd, but Severus planned to tell anyone who asked that they were religious revivalists. "Let's see if we can find a Floo," said Severus. "We can call the Headmaster."

"No," came the reply. "No sense losing points from Slytherin, you're lucky it's a Saturday. I'll floo-call my father."

This was, however, dependent on them finding a Floo. The rural town they'd landed in seemed to be entirely Muggle. Severus transfigured the spare parchment tucked into his robes into Muggle money, and approached an old woman to ask for directions to the nearest train station. If they could reach Dublin, he was certain they'd be able to find a wizarding commercial district.

Corban he told to stay silent, and to the woman introduced him as his foreign cousin- he doesn't speak English, unfortunately, yes, we'd appreciate directions- and luckily, the pureblood followed his lead. They walked for almost two hours, and then hitchhiked on the back of a truck the rest of the way. Severus bought them both tickets and food at the station (Corban looked very relieved, at that), and they sat at the platform, waiting for the afternoon express train. 

"I'm still mad at you, Snape," mumbled Corban thoughtfully, crunching on a bag of crisps. "But maybe it was worth it, to see above the clouds. I bet nobody else at school ever has."

"I'm almost certain that's the case," Severus replied.

"That wasn't actually an experiment to improve Slytherin's brooms, was it?"

"No. But it was important."

The taller boy waved the crisp bag at him threateningly. "I should be much angrier, you know."

"Sorry." He wasn't sorry at all.

"How did that happen anyway? Regular brooms aren't meant for overseas travel, you have to buy specialty ones."

"It was the wind," Severus replied. "We were what, five, seven miles off the ground? The winds in the shallowest part of the stratosphere are still incredibly strong. It pushed on the shields I was holding. Generally, they're more or less 120 miles per hour, or two miles per minute - given how long we were up there, it's no surprise we ended up here, actually. We were lucky it was a western wind- if it was easterly, we'd have ended up right in the North Sea. We're also lucky we landed in a rural area. I don't think this will make the English papers."

"Seriously?" demanded Corban. "Two miles a minute? If we got a shielded magic carpet up there, we could get places quickly! Without registering bloody Portkeys!"

Severus grimaced. "Portkeys have to be _registered_?"

"Bureaucracy. Anyway, how do you know all that about... higher-sphere wind speeds? And this?" He was gesturing to the spread between them, Muggle tickets and Muggle money and Muggle food. 

Severus wanted to blow the question off, but remembered what Morrigan had said to him, what he'd felt on the train, returning from Yule. He looked straight into Corban's eyes, emotionless. "I'm a half-blood."

He was silent for a moment, taking that in, then- "Oh," he said, finishing his crisps. 

Severus rather thought that was going to be the end of it, and looked away, watching the Muggles go about their days. But Corban, after a nearly five-minute pause, continued. "...but Narcissa Malfoy talks to you. A lot."

"Yes, though probably not as much as you're imagining. On occasion, your sister speaks to me too, you know."

His eyes narrowed. "Is that a threat? If you so much as _touch_ Ellen-"

"For Merlin's sake! No! My point is, most half-bloods aren't as muggle as you think. And-" Severus was properly irritated now- "If you want to date Narcissa, insulting her pet first-year is hardly the correct course of action."

"Pet firstie, my arse. You, Snape, you're barely even housebroken."  
_____________________________________ 

They were on the train and halfway to Dublin before Corban's self-control failed. "Hey, Snape. Snape."

Severus, who was half-asleep against the window, groaned. "What?"

"Has she said anything about me? Is she interested?"

The younger boy cracked one eye open, watching Corban. "You spend a lot of time around Bellatrix Black, for someone who claims to be interested in her sister."

He scowled. "I've always admired Bella, all right? She's powerful. And beautiful, but betrothed. We're just friends."

"I never doubted that."

"Merlin, you're so disagreeable."

"If you want answers from Narcissa, ask her yourself."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Fi- I can't believe I'm arguing with a _first-year_. I should have known you'd be trouble, from the day I saw you in Slughorn's office, creeping about in the shadows."

"I was just early for detention."

"If you bring him that crystallized pineapple from Honeydukes, he'll let you off, you know. And he'll start to like you, too."

"Yes, I gathered."  
____________________________________

Right off the train in Dublin, they sensed magic within a small, dodgy-looking tea shop. They walked in, and Severus parroted his introduction - yes, visiting from Europe, doesn't speak English- and Corban asked, with an awful German accent, "Ignem Vocant?"

It was the incantation to make a floo call. A tall redhead hurried out of the back rooms and hustled them inside. "Well, well," she said. "Hogwarts boys, so far from home?"

"It's a long story," admitted Severus. "May we borrow your floo?"

"Sure, but you'll have to wait," she replied. "Our druids' circle is still meeting in the sitting room. We'll wrap up soon."

"A druids' circle?" Severus asked, after she'd left.

"Environmentalists, basically," Corban replied, waving a hand dismissively. "They do good work, keep the Muggles from destroying all the forests and lakes."

"Seriously?" Severus was incredulous. "And they haven't stopped the _nuclear threat_?"

"What's a nuclear?"

"...it's...don't worry about it. Just a Muggle machine."

They spent another several minutes in silence until the woman reappeared. "Well, then. Where do you want to go? International floo is expensive, you know."

"I'll firecall my father," said Corban. "He'll reimburse you."

"All right then," she replied, showing them into the sitting room.

Soon enough, Lord Yaxley was stepping out of the redhead's floo. He was tall and broad-shouldered, clad in expensive robes. Severus instinctively took a step back. He paid the redhead, and all of them thanked her profusely for the use of her floo, and before he knew it, Severus found himself in the foyer at Yaxley Castle, watching the grandfather clock chime ten in the evening.

Lord Yaxley directed Corban to take Severus to the sitting room, and left to fetch his wife. House-elves served the two boys tea, and Severus swallowed his nervousness to ask the older boy a question.

"Is he going to be angry? Should I hide anything?"

Corban snorted. "No way! Tell him everything, but say I'm the one who came up with the idea, okay? He'll be over the moon that I care about something other than Quidditch."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "If you say so."

Lord Yaxley reentered, followed by Lady Yaxley in a lovely gown of deep green. Severus, following Corban's lead, stood as she entered the room. The adults made themselves comfortable, and then Lady Yaxley began to speak. 

"So," she began. "Please explain, my dear, why your father had to retrieve you from _Ireland_ , of all places, right in the middle of term."

She didn't sound angry, but Severus still blanched. "Snape- Severus, and I, were trying something, which went awry," replied Corban. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Mother, really."

"What were you trying?" interjected his father. "Illegal apparition?"

"No, we were looking for alternate ways to- to travel quickly, without registering Portkeys. I thought if we went into a higher sphere, of air, that we could catch some fast winds and measure them. Severus can cast the measurement spell." At this, he looked at Severus meaningfully. He sighed, and cast the charm to demonstrate.

"Yeah," Corban continued. "Like that. Anyway, we were planning to just get to the edge of Hogwarts, but we went a little too far and the winds got a lot stronger very quickly, and we ended up landing in Ireland. I'm sorry, really, it was just- academic curiosity-"

"Be more careful with your future experiments," said Lord Yaxley. "And maybe, in the interests of safety, consult a professor first. Why didn't you do that?"

Corban, mute, looked to Severus for rescue. "We- um, we didn't want them bringing up regulatory restrictions, you know-"

"-Yeah," Corban cut in. "All of the laws around magic carpets, and unauthorized Portkeys, and magical travel in general, they would have- have-"

"-Impeded us," Severus finished. "Unnecessarily."

The gamble paid off. It seemed the Yaxleys were part of what Severus was beginning to think of as the _Fons de Magia_ set, and voiced no objections to his stated plans to flout the law.

"Well, then," began Lady Yaxley. "Corban, you may as well stay the weekend. And Severus, we'd love to have you as a guest for the evening- we can floo you back to Hogwarts tomorrow, after breakfast."

"That would be an honor," Severus replied automatically, bowing to her.

"Let me walk you to a guest room," she said. The two of them left Lord Yaxley and Corban alone in the sitting room, as Lady Yaxley walked him through cavernous halls filled with torches and tapestries.

"You bowed to accept guest-right," she said. 

"I did."

"You know the old ways- but Snape is not a wizarding name."

"Nevertheless, I have some heritage to speak of, along with a very helpful mentor."

She stopped before a room with a deep brown door. "This will be your room for the night." She made no move to open the door, and Severus waited, puzzled.

"I know my son," she continued. "He did not think of flying towards the sun on his own. He would not do this for the sake of academic curiosity."

She paused, waiting for his reaction. He kept his face and eyes still, thinking of nothing but a large dark pool in his mind. She reached over, and pushed open the door to the guest bedroom. "Here is your room. Good night, little snake."

"Good night, Lady Yaxley."  
___________________________________

Back at Hogwarts the next morning, his detentions smoothed over with a few boxes of the Yaxleys' crystallized pineapple, Severus finally found the time and the silence for the true horror of his ill-planned experiment to settle in. He'd allowed Corban to keep climbing in altitude, and the only thing protecting the two of them had been a first-year's warming and shielding charms. He had no backup plan for if the magic actually began to fail - which it had, right as they'd broken through the cloud cover. He was lucky Corban was an excellent flyer, lucky the wind had been westerly, lucky he was able to maintain the shields for so long thanks to all his duelling practice with Morrigan.

Had even one aspect of the experiment gone wrong, he might be frozen, falling from the sky, drowned in the North Sea, face torn off from wind-burn. And that wasn't even accounting for the danger of Muggles seeing them, or the encounter with the elder Yaxleys. Awareness of his own mortality swept over him like a wave, flooding him. He flopped around in his bed, pressing his face to his pillow. Around him, he heard the other boys begin returning from breakfast, their voices filtering in through his forest-green hangings.

"Severus is back," called Zukovski. 

"Really?" asked Evan.

"Are you awake, Severus?" asked Thomas Wilkes. "Yuri thought you were dead last night."

"I did not!" yelled Zukovski, indignant. "I was just concerned."

Severus was oddly touched. He'd only spoken to Zukovski... Yuri as much as was required of two boys in the same dormitory. Being missed was surprising. As little as he wanted to, he opened his curtains. Realizing that Yuri had realized and cared that he was missing rather tugged at him. 

"Good morning," he said. 

"So, tell us! Where were you?" asked Evan, sitting down on his bed. "In the girls' dorms?"

"Him? The girls' dorms?" Thomas broke into laughter. "No way!" Severus simply watched, too dissociated to react properly.

Yuri was standing next to Severus' bed, picking up a small piece of paper.

"What is that?" Thomas asked, peeking over the other boy's shoulder. "Merlin!"

"What?" Evan demanded. "What is it?"

"Muggle money," said Yuri. "So, what were you doing in the muggle world?"

All three boys were looking at him now, almost horrified, clearly expecting a sane answer. Severus deeply regretted not working out a story with Corban beforehand. However, what issued from his mouth was only a slightly edited version of the truth.

"I tricked Yaxley into flying as high as he could - I wanted to see what it was like up above the cloud cover. He pointed his broom up, and we went for ten, twenty minutes, but somehow we lost our way and crashed down in Ireland. I transfigured the money so we could use Muggle transport to find the nearest floo."

"Circe," said Evan. "You must have flown a long way."

"Yes," Severus replied. "We both lost track of time."

"You," said Yuri, staring at him, "are absolutely insane."

"Severus, risking life and limb to see above the clouds like a bloody Ravenclaw. Can't say we didn't see it coming." That was from Wilkes, who'd grown bored of the chatter and was shoving books into his schoolbag.

Roommates placated, Severus swore them all to secrecy, and Evan swore he'd obtain a pensieve over the summer so they could see his memory of flying above the clouds. Luckily, he did not need to dissuade them from attempting the stunt themselves. They were neither brazen Gryffindors nor curious Ravenclaws, and saw no benefit in this particular jaunt.  
_____________________________

The implications of the trip, though they took longer to process, were not lost on Severus, although they confused him. The broom had begun to shake almost as soon as they left the troposphere. Corban hadn't performed any magic, too busy controlling the broom. Severus' shields had held, but his warming charms faded quickly. The broom's magic had malfunctioned quite badly, for a racing-quality broom with innumerable safety charms lacquered into the wood itself. Severus' magic had worked, but it was undoubtedly weaker.

Certainly, his experiment was not formally rigorous or scientifically sound, but it was enough for him. He felt, deep in his gut, that he was right. Somehow, the magic he was learning was Earth-tied. He thought further back, to that afternoon he'd gone to see Professor Patil. Maybe that was why he amused her so, because she'd seen this in his future, and she'd known. He had to solve the mystery of what exactly was One, Two, Infinity. 

He pulled _Magia_ out again, rereading the relevant verse.

_...and they all stem from One, from they who are Two who are One, from the light of the midnight sun, light-dark and dark-light and earth-sky and One and Everything, the Fountainhead, they who are One, yet Two, yet Infinity, yet One, yet Two..._

There it was. The _fountainhead_. If he found that, he'd know magic's exact limits. He rested the book on his lap, and sat up straight, casting his mind back to Professor Patil's words. _Reach out with your magic, not your wand. Then you will begin to understand_. The sense-memory of her office returned to him, the awareness of the vines along the walls, his very existence sharing that space with theirs. The soft brush of the tassels on the cushions, the turn of the beads in Patil's hand, the scent of the incense. Was there something behind her, on the wall? There must have been, for he remembered a black wheel, with spokes, turning, turning. _The great wheel turns, over an eternity of time_ , she'd said. The vines breathed the incense-scented air with him, in and out, with each turn of the wheel. He was them and they were him, he could feel their plant-senses, become them, become himself, stretching, reaching towards the sunlight- 

And he was startled back to the surface by none other than Lucius Malfoy shaking him. "Whatever you're doing," the prefect said, "Stop it." Severus shook himself, stunned. 

"What? Why?" Nobody else in the common room had noticed anything, save Narcissa, who was standing next to Lucius and staring at him, eyes wide. 

"Circe," breathed Severus. "What did I do?"

"Narcissa is sensitive to powerful outbursts of magic. Whatever you were doing, is it under control now?"

"Yes, it- it should be. I'm sorry," Severus said. "I really don't mean to cause trouble-"

"I'm sure you don't," replied Lucius dismissively. "What on earth _are_ you doing?"

Severus explained what Professor Patil had told him. Lucius looked somewhat disturbed. "I always thought that woman was a fraud, but you certainly created a surge of magic just now."

"I don't feel magic that often," Narcissa said. "Only the strongest bursts, and they usually indicate accidental or dark magic- I was worried something bad was going to happen to you."

"Thank you," said Severus, the stress of the past few days finally catching up with him. "For worrying." Tired, he listed sideways in the armchair. She caught him. 

"Oh, Severus. Go to sleep." It was a good idea, and he stumbled off back towards his bed. He heard Lucius as he was leaving, speaking to Narcissa-

"Patil gave him advice on understanding the last few pages of _Magia_ , apparently. Merlin, I wouldn't have given him those books if I'd known he'd become fixated on that psychobabble-"

"He did something with it- I felt his power surge! It couldn't possibly be useless-"

Severus tuned them out, and went to bed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's so late! i think a weekly update schedule was too ambitious. but rest assured i plan to finish the story!

"Part of Severus' grudge against Mr. Potter was because he felt James took Lily from him, certainly. Another part, that Harry himself, by dint of the prophecy, took Lily from him. But there was something else there- Mr. Potter, in many ways, reminded Severus of himself as a student in all his worst aspects. They were both stubborn, wary of adults, and loath to request any kind of meaningful assistance. It's a pity Severus didn't see that the best parts of him are echoed in Harry, too- loyalty, love, determination."

\- Dumbledore's portrait to Minerva McGonagall and the Golden Trio, on the first anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts  
__________________________________

Severus sat before _Magia_ again the next day, stubbornly defying Lucius' pronouncement of t "psychobabble". He knew he was on the right track, having gone up to Professor Patil's office again. There were other students there this time, working on their Divination homework, so he hadn't stopped to chat- but he'd checked the wall behind her, and there was no marking. What he'd seen yesterday, the black wheel with jagged spokes, that was it. That was the midnight sun. He was on the right track. Barely containing a triumphant smile, he swore to himself to stretch his magic every morning until he found the fountainhead.

On a decidedly less positive note, as divorced as he'd been from Slytherin gossip lately, he was surprised to find that Corban's retelling of their adventure had proven much more popular than his rather brief version. The story had finally trickled down from the fourth-years, and had fallen upon Severus' roommmates' eager ears. 

"You didn't tell us you almost _died_ ," Evan whined, sitting on his bed. _Without permission,_ Severus groused mentally. 

"I didn't," he replied. "Yaxley is an excellent flyer."

"You didn't say you were blown all the way to Ireland by really high sky winds either, or that you ran into a druids' circle... to be honest, the whole thing sounds ridiculous. So, tell me- is Yaxley lying?"

"Growling Muggle cart? The train?"

"I know what a train is- the other thing. The one that was as fast as a broom, but on a dirt road?"

"Oh, the truck."

"You left out all the details!"

He had a similar discussion with Lily, who was rather annoyed he hadn't invited her along - inconveniently, she'd taken Yaxley at his word. 

"I needed a broom," he said to Lily, "and you didn't want to break school rules the other day, when I told you how you could get potions ingredients from the greenhouses at night-"

"That's different!" she exclaimed. "You almost died, Sev! And I could have helped!"

To his surprise, he now had a proper reputation, both within Slytherin and throughout the school, as "that crazy first-year". Less fortunately, the scrutiny forced Slughorn to dock points from Slytherin and assign actual detentions. _Bloody Corban_ , Severus thought. Just had to go and brag about the whole affair.

Luckily, the rumor mill had moved on by the time Lily's birthday came around, close to January's end. Severus' finished gift lay at the bottom of his trunk, wrapped in clean robes for protection. Professor Patil's advice there, too, had worked like a charm. When he'd tested the finished product on himself, he'd had a lovely dream of himself and Lily, on a magic carpet above the cloud-cover. There was no biting wind this time, and the temperature was that of a spring afternoon. Lily leapt right off the carpet and onto the white clouds, and he'd jumped off to give chase. They ran, laughing, kicking up bits of cloud from beneath their feet.

To reciprocate what she'd done for him, he went to speak to her roommates about a joint celebration. He hung back after Potions, intent on catching them after Lily left. 

"Fortescue, could I have a word?" he asked. All the remaining Gryffindors turned to stare.

"Um, sure," she began. "What-"

But she was interrupted by Lupin, who was grinning coldly. "Look, Siri, Snivelly's got a _crush_ on Alice!"

Black snickered, and elbowed Potter in turn. "Like anyone would date you, Snivellus!" Uncharacteristically, Potter barely noticed the commotion. "James?" Black asked, shaking his friend's shoulder. 

"I- what?" Potter asked, looking distracted. "I, um, boys, I've got to go, yeah? I'll find you later."

With that, he walked off, clutching a letter with the Potter family seal so hard his knuckles were turning white. Lupin began to follow, but Sirius held an arm out to stop him. "Let's find James later," he said. "We've still got something to take care of here." 

Pettigrew had finally worked up the nerve to get himself involved. "Something to take care of!" he exclaimed gleefully. "The greasy git likes Alice! What are we going to do, Sirius?"

Fortescue huffed, picked up her bag, and tried to leave, but she found her way blocked by Lupin. "No, no, you can't leave yet," he was saying. "Snivelly hasn't even confessed yet!"

"Just let me go!" she snapped, trying to shove him out of the way. Then Black pulled out his wand, Severus mirroring him. 

"Don't," warned Severus lowly. His heart was beating in his throat. Black hesitated, minutely.

"What are you doing, Siri?" asked Pettigrew. "What's going on?"

At that, the hesitation fled, and Black's eyes narrowed in malice. "Confess your love, Snapey," he called mockingly. "Or I'll make you!" He brandished his wand threateningly, stepping closer to his Slytherin quarry. Severus sighed- the bloody Vow. Fortunately, he'd found a new spell, one that combined Locomotor Mortis and Silencio to create- "Langlock," he whispered, wand pointed at Black. His tongue would stick to the roof of his mouth, now, unless he found some way to reverse it. Severus himself still hadn't created the countercurse. Black's eyes widened, and he dropped his wand to claw at his mouth. Taking advantage of the commotion, Lupin hit Severus' robe with _Incendio_ , and he dropped to the floor, rolling around frantically to put the fire out. The flames so close to his skin were quite painful, but he didn't want to give the Marauders the satisfaction of hearing him scream. Frantically cataloguing the charms he knew, he cursed himself for his stupidity, quickly casting the freezing charm on his robe, which snapped into rigid ice-bound cloth on his skin. A wash of blessed cold ran over him, and he sighed, letting his head fall back. At some point, the Marauders had run off, and he was alone in the classroom. 

He jerked suddenly, hearing the door open, and pointed his wand at the intruder- only to find it was Fortescue, with a bucket of water.

"Oh," she said. "You're all right, then. Clever spell."

"Sorry about that," he replied. "Where'd you get the bucket?"

"Asked an older Gryffindor to conjure it. Don't apologize for those tossers. I won't lie, I can't understand why Lily is friends with you. You're a Slytherin and your friends are bigots. But I'm not a fan of the Marauders either."

"Incidentally, that's what I wanted to talk about. Lily, I mean. Her birthday."

"Oh," she replied, eyes narrowing. "What of it?"

"Would you, Jones, and MacDonald be able to put up with me for an hour, to throw Lily a surprise party?"

_____________________________

When Fortescue finally left the classroom, Severus allowed himself to collapse. Ice-robes or no, the burns _hurt_. He locked the classroom door and began freezing the water Fortescue had left, bit by bit, into small ice chips. He took off his now-ruined robe, and defrosting it with a weak Incendio, began tearing strips off it to tie the ice-chips to his skin where it hurt the most.

To hide the extent of the damage, he cast mending charms on the holes in his pants and sweater, and stuffed the remainder of the robe into his bag. Only one ice-chip was directly visible, on his ankle. Severus figured it was inconspicuous enough, and went on with his day. 

It was evening before anyone realized there was something wrong with him. The ice-chips controlled the pain quite well, and he was careful not to wince when someone brushed too hard against him. Morrigan, however, took one look at his gait and his ankle, and diagnosed him instantly. 

"Merlin, what happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" he replied, feigning ignorance.

"I can see you're hurt, you pillock- is that _ice_ tied to your ankle? Didn't have enough close calls flying upwards, so you tried to get to the center of the earth this time, did you?"

Severus sighed, sitting down and letting his head rest on the cool wood of the table. "If only." He felt fingers on his arm, reaching up to his elbow. 

"Wow," said Morrigan. "Are all these lumps just more pieces of ice?"

"Mmhmm," Severus mumbled in response. 

"Right, then," she said briskly. "You're going to the hospital wing."

"Oh, right," said Severus, startled. "I forgot there was one."

She looked extremely unimpressed.

_____________________________________

The hospital wing provided quite an unpleasant surprise. Sirius Black was still there, and still unable to speak. Severus felt a frission of fear. _Langlock_ was a simple spell. What if they hadn't been able to figure it out?

His fear was quickly quelled- as Madam Pomfrey set him up in a bed, she saw him looking at Black. "He's got his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth somehow, poor thing. I gave him a potion for it, but it won't unstick until tomorrow morning. Now, what exactly happened to you?"

Severus gave her a hastily cobbled-together story of a potions accident, which she didn't question. Morrigan watched, grimly satisfied, as the healer chastised Severus for not coming in earlier, and set him to coating his burns with a nasty-smelling poultice.

The next morning proved Morrigan right. All of Severus' burns were gone, as if they'd never existed in the first place. He spent breakfast running his fingers over and over the newly smooth skin, hardly able to believe they were completely gone. The memory of the pain was fresh in his mind, but without any physical blemish to anchor to, the recollection was dulled. 

As he did his usual magic-stretching exercise, he felt the spots where the bruises used to be as small pools of swirling light, and he felt somehow _more_ than he had the day before. Reaching out through them, he felt his mind grow and stretch, taking in the pain of the burn and relief of the poultice as a simultaneously existing paradox, reaching to encompass the Incendio itself, and the lacewing flies and powdered gurdyroot and aloe vera stirred into the poultice brew, and the garden from whence the aloe vera sprung, and the air, and ice, and fire, and earth-

That wasn't it. Earth was not the fountainhead. In _Magia_ , that was clear as day. From whence had Earth come, then? He remembered what he'd learnt in school, something about the Big Bang, about matter pulled together by gravitational forces- but he knew, instinctually, this wasn't what earth meant, in this case. He was looking for something different - the origin of earth-energy, to be precise. Yet again, he found himself stuck.

Nevertheless, the exercise had an outsized effect on Severus' shield charms, for some reason. It now lasted several times the length of Morrigan's in duels, but Severus was wary of relying on it too much- in his experience, advances easily gained were easily lost. 

Unfortunately, that tenet was once again proven correct. His _Langlock_ advantage over the Marauders quickly disappeared. Remus Lupin, that clever arsewipe, managed to duplicate the spell. Severus watched him cast it on an unsuspecting student, rejoicing gleefully at his victim's confusion. He'd turned then, and looked at Severus, and smirked. At this, a hot flush of anger flooded the Slytherin, turning his cheeks red. They had the gall to use _his_ spells. 

Bound by Lily's requests and Narcissa's Vow, he was limited in the moves he was able to make against the Marauders without provocation. But using his own spells to bait him was downright underhanded, compared to their usual Gryffindorish tendencies. He would fire the next round first, Severus determined. He'd had enough of playing the victim- but, of course, Sirius Black must not be seriously hurt, and Lily must never know that he was the instigator.

But, he realized with a sudden flash of insight, no matter what he did to them, they wouldn't let up. Not as long as he was friends with Lily- and he shouldn't let up, either, not as long as they continued to use his spells. Severus Snape was at war.

He explained the situation to Morrigan sans Vow one evening, and she smiled at him almost sympathetically. 

"What do you expect, Snape? You want to run around shooting curses and have Lily love you for it?"

"You would love me for it," he replied. Her cheeks colored, just for a moment- it was so quick Severus thought he might have imagined it.

"Anyone who's ever had to defend themselves would understand, but that's beside the point. Lily Evans will not. What are you fussing about, anyway? It's just a little extra deception, isn't it? You talked _Yaxley_ into flying you _to another country_ , Sev. I don't think one Gryffindor will pose a challenge."

"It's not that- I've just never, never lied to her before."

"You have," Morrigan replied archly. "Lies of omission."

"Fine, lies of omission. I've never directly lied to her." The Ravenclaw sighed, twirling her quill between her fingers. Severus watched the feather turn and flip gracefully.

"Anyone with half a brain can see what's coming, you know. If you want to stay friends with her, you will have to lie. If not now, then soon. You're not giving up the Dark Arts, and you're not charismatic enough to talk her around."

"Hey!"

She snickered. "It's true, you're no Malfoy."

Severus knew she was right - he and Lily, they were headed for an inevitable collision. The thought left him feeling as if wire was wrapped around his heart and pulled tight. He forced a laugh, pushing the thought away. "I used to think Malfoy's charisma came from being part of an old pureblood family, but that's not it at all. Avery's from an old family and he's got all the finesse of a Bludger." It was a clumsy subject change, but Morrigan allowed it.  
___________________________

Lily's birthday dawned wet and gray, absolutely typical for Scotland in January. Severus spent an uncomfortable hour in the company of Lily's gaggle of Gryffindors, setting up the party. It was a much grander affair than his had been, boasting a much larger count of attendees. Fortescue was in charge of the invitations, and had issued them to all of Lily's friends, a group of about twenty-five including Severus and her roommates themselves. Gryffindor was predominant, of course, but to Severus' surprise, every house was represented on the invitation list - he, the sole Slytherin. She'd always been quite social. 

Lily was due to arrive with Hestia Jones, letting Severus and her roommates break the surprise party. Everyone else had been asked to arrive thirty minutes afterwards. He wedged into a tiny closet with Fortescue and MacDonald, and popped out in a "SURPRISE!" on Jones' signal- their plan went off without a hitch. Lily was astonished and appreciative, and as more and more people arrived, he watched them all fall into orbit around her. Her bright bubble of happiness engulfed the entire party, even Severus, skulking at its corners. He stayed to sing for Lily, and cut the cake, and left his gift on the table MacDonald had set up. But he quickly began to feel quite out of place. Several Gryffindors were staring at him, whispering or glaring, and he didn't know any of Lily's friends- it reminded him far too much of Cokeworth, where all he wanted to do was blend into the shadows. Picking around the edge of the crowd, he disappeared into the hallway and returned to Slytherin, with nobody any the wiser.

Despite his party-induced reticence, the redhead was as aware as ever, and cornered him the next day to thank him for the potion. "I was too curious not to try it," she said, "so I took some last night, and- oh my god, Sev, it was amazing! Where did you get it?"

"I- um, made it..." he mumbled, trailing off awkwardly. 

" _Really _?" asked Lily, her eyes bright with curiosity. "You invented it?"__

__"Yes," he replied, embarassed._ _

__"Oh my god, how do you just-" she waved her hands about, searching for the words- "-come up with something like that?"_ _

__"It's not hard. I'd bet you could do it for charms easily."_ _

__"Really? Me?"_ _

__Severus thought back to his own experiments, recalling a rather innocuous charm from September. "Well- okay, you remember we learned the levitation charm? And _Lumos_?"_ _

__"Yes."_ _

__"Well, try to solve this - what if you wanted to make a lantern, and have it float next to you?"_ _

__Lily furrowed her brow, thinking. "Well, first, you'd need a lantern." She took a piece of parchment from her bag, and with a quick sticking charm, folded it neatly into a lantern. "I can't light my wand and levitate the lantern at the same time, so I'd probably need a new incantation. I remember reading a book about that, a few weeks ago- Flitwick gave it to me-"_ _

__Severus felt a quick flash of jealousy as Lily mumbled over her lantern. Any extra work he'd done, he'd done the hard way. But then, suddenly, his friend was standing before him proudly levitating a lit paper lantern. "It works, Sev!" she exclaimed._ _

__"That was quick! I'm impressed, Lils," he replied sincerely. It had taken him a week and several trips to the library._ _

__"For some reason I thought experimenting with magic would be- dangerous, I suppose? Or wrong?"_ _

__"Magic is part of you. It's no more dangerous than a- a chemistry experiment, or something, if you're careful." Lily smiled at him, hesitantly. "Don't let your view be tainted by my flying experiments," he added, abashed.  
____________________________ _

__As Severus was now at war with the Marauders, in an extremely imbalanced matchup of one versus four (three, really- he didn't count Pettigrew), he picked up more and more offensive spells. Avery and Mulciber noticed, and were quick to show him more powerful versions they'd learnt from their parents. Altogether, magic for the sake of lording it over Gryffindors was more compelling to Slytherin than magic for the sake of magic, but Severus didn't know what else he expected. It wasn't Ravenclaw, after all. Neither could he deride his housemates for small scopes of ambition, for his own current ambition was to hit the Marauders with a decisive blow._ _

__When the four Gryffindors awoke one morning to find their right index fingers stuck in their noses, they immediately ascertained that it was Severus. As far as both parties were concerned, the game was officially _on_._ _

__He hadn't wanted to get into it with the Marauders, not really, because they had a decided advantage. Not on the pranks front, no- Severus was more than capable of keeping up. Not on the numbers front either- Severus knew he was worth more than the three semi-competent Marauders and their pet combined. Rather, it was in the social arena where they had the advantage. Being Gryffindor's golden boys, and Potter and Black powerful purebloods to boot, they had leeway to publicly taunt him that he didn't have with which to fire back. But doing nothing had seemed a rather worse option, so he committed himself fully to this course of action, and settled into a new rhythm of life at Hogwarts.  
___________________________  
Spring descended quickly upon the castle, snow giving way to slush giving way to grassy fields. The new season brought with it joy, more Quidditch, and end-of-year exam stress. It was to all of their credit that Severus and the Marauders managed to maintain the furious pace of their war._ _

__Far more importantly, Severus had to contend with the matter of Morrigan's birthday, and the work associated with producing yet another present. More than anything, he wanted to give her a copy of _Fons de Magia_ , but the thought of breaking Lucius' trust that way gave him an almost physical sense of nausea. So he exhaled through his nose, and once again attempted to channel all his skills and creativity into determining what girls wanted. Narcissa found him fretting over it one day, and simply rolled her eyes at him and told him to buy Morrigan a Gobstones set. Ravenclaws, she insisted, were not complicated at all._ _

__Severus arrived to the party (in the Ravenclaw common room) just behind the only other non-Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff Mary Osborne. Abbott came to the door and let them in to a much mellower party than Lily's. Severus spotted Morrigan and three or four Ravens sitting together, and he, Oswald, and Abbott joined them. The evening was not an experience he was raring to repeat, but it didn't grate on his nerves either. Morrigan's friends were a tolerable but monotonous bunch, who seemed to base their topics of conversation entirely on common classes._ _

__As they all made their goodbyes, later that evening, Severus gave Morrigan her present. He was immediately glad he'd taken Narcissa's advice, as the Ravenclaw shook the box and smiled in delight upon hearing the Gobstones rattle around inside - though he'd made them, working from Narcissa's set, instead of purchasing. "Thank you for coming, Severus, and for the gift," she said._ _

__He smiled back at her, cordially and politely, as if they didn't regularly meet to practice illegal magic. "It was my pleasure."_ _

__In comparison to his duels with Morrigan or even his war with the Marauders, end-of-year exams were laughably simple. As the first-years spilled out of the History of Magic classroom after their last exam of the year, Severus felt a pang of sadness. Despite the Marauders, he'd had an incredible year at Hogwarts, and was loath to leave. He was tempted, for a moment, to ask the Headmaster if he could stay over the summer, but then Lucius' words came back to him. If he was going to continue practicing dark magic, he could not allow the Headmaster any extra leverage over him._ _

__Severus was still mentally bemoaning the unfairness of it all on the train, until an idea occurred to him. Eileen clearly wasn't going to use her wand, and hers wouldn't be registered with the Ministry. He could spend the summer _doing magic_._ _


	12. Chapter 12

"Thank you for the new frame- I fully intend to stay here as long as you'll have me. My Hogwarts portrait is no longer habitable, having become the mecca of some sort of recurring Gryffindor pilgrimage. And, perhaps I'll be able to do something for Draco- Merlin, don't cry, Narcissa- yes, I miss you too."

\- Severus Snape's second portrait at Malfoy Manor to Narcissa Malfoy, five months into her and her son's house arrest  
________________________________

Thirty minutes into the sorting, Severus decided his second year at Hogwarts was off to an auspicious start. Sirius Black's younger brother Regulus was sorted into _Slytherin_ , to the former's dismay, and to add insult to injury, Regulus strode right to the Slytherin table and sat down next to Severus, who waved jauntily at the elder Black's murderous glare. Lily witnessed the exchange, and threw Severus a look of consternation. He could almost hear her voice in his mind- "Don't bait them, Sev!"- but simply offered her the same gleeful smile. No victory was too petty. He was enjoying himself.

He didn't particularly want to press the issue, however, by socializing with Black the younger. The first years went through their usual round of excited chatter, gossip, wand-comparison and Severus ate quietly, one ear idly monitoring their conversation and the other attuned to his own year-mates. Evidently the group of young purebloods had been spending time together, gatherings from which only Severus and Yuri were absent. Severus was unsurprised, but somehow still disappointed. He had much more work to do.

Nevertheless, reuniting with his yearmates, mentors, friends- everyone who comprised the only world he cared about- was more of a lift to his mood than Severus cared to admit. He had indeed spent the summer with Eileen's wand (when he could get it) and the TV shop (when he couldn't), and that odd combination of stimuli had driven him to learn the art of scrying. He'd thought, just maybe, it might be possible to scry into space. 

He hadn't been able to achieve it alone, lacking the necessary context around warding, but he didn't dare ask Lucius for help. The older prefect, more likely than not, would disapprove of using magic to fulfill muggle aspirations, and Severus was not yet a skilled enough liar to spin a sufficiently complex falsehood. As such, he would need to ask someone else he trusted, someone with access to the necessary information- and it couldn't be Lily, for scrying was dark. So that left Morrigan. 

When he pitched the project to her, she was immediately interested. Textbook Ravenclaw, she couldn't stay away from a good puzzle, no matter how impractical. Refreshingly, it wasn't necessary to explain to her _why_ he wanted to see into space. Simple curiosity was explanation enough. They sat at their usual table in the library, Severus' summer scrying-glass sitting between them. Morrigan looked at it curiously.

"What is this thing?" she asked, twisting it around. 

"Look through the glass at your quill," replied Severus. "Then slowly move it further from the quill."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "I can see every little detail of the quill. This is really very clever-"

"No, sorry- the scrying hasn't been activated yet, it's just a Muggle invention called a magnifying glass. Muggles use it to see objects up close. I decided to turn it into a scrying-glass so nobody would question why I looked at it so intently."

"How clever," she murmured, magnifying the graffiti etched into the table. A large AF ❤ FP stared up at them, next to a crude etching of a snitch. Severus stared at it for a moment. The latter was Fabian Prewett, of course, but the former- Alice Fortescue? He pressed his lips together, stifling a smirk. That poor girl. A seventh-year seeker would have no interest in second-year girls.

"So how do you scry with this?" Morrigan asked. Severus demonstrated, quietly, the incantation and the directional commands, and then Morrigan cast them on her own, endowing the circular glass with a lovely image of Dover's white cliffs.

Scrying was theoretically quite similar to apparition- the caster was opening a tiny doorway to each spot they scryed, and could only scry locations they'd visited previously. It was, however, much easier than apparition, because the doorway did not need enough stability to transport matter. Naturally, Severus had immediately tried to scry the sky he'd flown through with Corban, high above Scotland, and the image appeared with full clarity- but what he really needed was a way to scry higher, some way to connect his magic to a place he'd never seen before. 

His study partner nodded as he explained, eyes narrowed in concentration. "Some wizards can apparate to a particular location just with coordinates," she said. "In particular, it's a requirement for the Auror corps, but most apparition-related books don't have a particular method they recommend besides trial and error. So there definitely exists a systematic way to learn it, but it's not public knowledge... and probably requires a fair amount of extra power as well."

"I'll ask after copies of Auror training material," he replied. "With luck, I might be able to procure a copy."

"With luck and a few purebloods," said Morrigan, laughing. "All right then, have at it."   
______________________________

As delighted as he was to see Morrigan again, Severus was even more delighted to see Lily. Her parents had kept her close over the summer, and the two of them had barely been able to meet. He still didn't dare visit her house, for fear of what impression her parents had of him from Diagon Alley and the Hogwarts Express. Yet meeting her, even at Hogwarts, was accompanied by a sense of guilt. He was living a double life, now, even if one side was purely maintained for Lily's benefit. For who else was he looking to impress, really, other than Lucius Malfoy?

Yet she was an intelligent girl, and she knew the increasingly vicious attacks perpetrated on the Marauders had Severus' hallmarks all over them. They existed now in a state of mostly-not-talking-about-it, or rather, Lily would mention obliquely when she felt one of his pranks had gone too far, and he would refrain from repeating it. Neither of them explicitly mentioned his role in them, and Severus was grateful he could exist in this bubble with her, far from his everyday concerns.

He was less delighted to reunite with Narcissa, who explicitly disapproved of the war but was loath to take action unless Severus broke the terms of the Vow. However, he was glad to spend time with the one person who owed _him_ a favor, rather than the other way around. Being in incontrovertible control of the balance of power meant that he didn't have to watch his every conversational step as carefully, didn't need to tiptoe around controversial subjects. Rather annoyingly, though, she was set on encouraging him to cultivate his yearmates. 

"If you cultivated Evan Rosier, Lucius could invite you to the Heart of Winter gala at the Manor, every winter solstice," she wheedled. 

"He could invite me now," replied Severus, unimpressed.

"It's not a question of being _able_ , more of a question of being socially _appropriate_ \- if he were to invite someone underage, they would have to be affiliated with a pureblood family of some standing."

"Why not the Blacks then, if I should be there so urgently?"

She sighed. "My parents wouldn't allow a half-blood beyond the doorstep, let alone sponsor him. The Malfoys are, generally, more liberal. I really would recommend cultivating Evan Rosier. But if that won't work for you, I understand Lady Yaxley had some interesting things to say about you at Beltane."

"Lady _Yaxley_ \- Merlin, _no_ \- that woman is terrifying, Narcissa. _Terrifying._ "

Narcissa giggled, and Severus, feeling betrayed, crossed his arms and did what he'd never done before in his life. He pouted, brattily, and looked up at Narcissa through a curtain of greasy hair. Unfortunately, it had no effect, and she simply looked at him askance before replying.

"She had nothing but good things to say about you, you know."

"That is its own kind of danger," he replied. "She wants something from me, and if it's all the same to you, I'd rather like to avoid any more Corban-related scrapes."

"You're learning quickly, little half-blood," she said, smiling, though he scowled at her chosen diminutive. "But I assure you, it is always better to be seen than forgotten. Cultivate Evan Rosier."  
_______________________________

That cultivation soon fell to the bottom of his list of priorities, because it turned out Lucius did indeed have access to Auror training documents. Yet as Severus thanked him, tucking the thick stack of parchment into his bookbag, a sudden foreboding stole over him. Here he was, asking multiple borderline-illegal favors from the prefect, and having them fulfilled promptly with nary a hint of complaint. Undoubtedly, he _owed_ Lucius now, and more likely than not, a day would come when the older boy asked a favor in return. What he had in mind Severus didn't know, but he wasn't looking forward to the day he'd call it in. 

Though, mused Severus, was this not what Slytherin relationships were made of? Their very house was driven by ambition- it was no surprise to him that Slytherins would seek secrets, hidden knowledge, ways into and around power structures. That was how snakes traversed the world, after all. As relationships went, it was fairly cheap for Lucius to maintain this one, anyhow. Everything Severus asked him for was simple enough to find, and after his (several) gratuitous demonstrations of power beyond that of a typical first-year, it wouldn't have made sense for the prefect to do anything else. Bit by bit, Severus began to relax. Given that he was just a second-year, it was unlikely the older boy had any firm plans for him, and any other bridge he could cross when he came to it. For now, he would live with the uncertainty, and keep in mind that he had a Favor from Narcissa Black. That would surely be enough to get him out of any scheme Lucius attempted to inveigle him into, though he'd only be able to call on her once.

He could not even regret asking, because he and Morrigan succeeded in their coordinate-based scrying by mid-October, thanks to the fantastically detailed Auror manual. He was able to scry all sorts of places he'd never been too, from Dover to the Americas. He even tried to scry Malfoy Manor, but of course, most magical homes were protected from simple watchglass-magic. Yet strangely enough, while he was able to scry randomly chosen locations in the troposphere, Morrigan hit her limit at about the height of the Quidditch Pitch. Severus was certain, then, that the culprit of this inconsistency was none other than _Fons de Magia_. He simply couldn't doubt it any more- magic was Earth-tied, and the only reason he was able to extend past the pitch was because he'd been there personally, and imagined it existed as part of earth now, an entire layer of shining cloud-foam blocking the rays of the sun.

With that, he decided the time had come. Morrigan needed to see _Magia_. Wary of asking yet another favor of Lucius in so short a time, he resolved instead to visit the inimitable Professor Patil. She still frightened him, but perhaps she would be amenable to helping a fellow young Ravenclaw. 

He ascended the stairs yet again, incense prickling at his nose, sat down at one of the low tables, and worked until the professor's office emptied out. True to form, Professor Patil already seemed to know what he was thinking, beckoning Severus towards her desk (or perhaps tea-table, since it was reliably devoid of papers but always held a delicate brew of exotic tea). Wordlessly, she offered him a cup, which he accepted, and then poured one for herself. Settling back into her pillows again, she finally spoke. 

"I can feel you've been practicing, Mr. Snape, since our conversation last year."

"I have," he replied. "I've been becoming- _sensitive_ , I suppose, to all the magic at Hogwarts."

"You must have seen the wheel, then."

"The spinning, black wheel with jagged spokes? Yes, I did."

"Where?"

Startled, Severus answered honestly. "Right here, Professor, in your office- just behind your head."

"Behind my head?" she responded, amused. "How flattering!"

"Flattering?"

"You'll come to understand, young Snape, as long as you continue practicing. Anyhow, I understand you have a question for me?"

"Yes," and he laid out his proposal. In exchange for his Unbreakable Vow to not reveal her secret to the headmaster, Professor Patil would allow Morrigan access to her copy of _Fons de Magia_. To his surprise, she broke into laughter.

"Oh, Mr. Snape. I do not enjoy holding the power of life and death over my students, despite any evidence to the contrary you may have encountered. And a small piece of advice- be very careful, in future, with the Unbreakable Vow. There is a very good reason it is christened so. More to the point, I do not appreciate blackmail. Do you really believe the Headmaster will take the word of a Slytherin associated with the Malfoys and Blacks over mine? Rest assured that even if you were to offer him your memories for such a stunt, I am more than capable of reaching into your mind and _erasing them_. You have a lot to learn still, little snake, about making enemies wisely. But in this instance, I will forgive you."

Severus was simultaneously red-faced in embarrassment and paralyzed in fear. "I- I apologize sincerely, Professor Patil, I just- I know the risk of revealing something like _Fons de Magia_ , and this seemed the only way to show my friend, without betraying another of my allies-"

"I will give Miss Yarrick a copy if she is able to come here, _on her own_ , and discreetly explain what exactly it is that she wants to learn from it as well as her motivation for doing so. And next time you attempt to blackmail someone, ensure they are not able to eliminate you by force- because they will, Mr. Snape. You would effectively force their hand."

"Understood, I- sorry again, Professor, and thank you for granting Morrigan this opportunity, despite my actions..." he trailed off, unsure how to continue. She'd been right, he was hardly ready to start blackmailing adults in his free time. He was barely ready to take on Lucius Malfoy, let alone his bloody professors. He was incredibly lucky that Professor Patil was more amused than anything. 

"There are worse reasons to blackmail someone," she said. "And you're forgiven, Snape, mostly because I like you. You have a dedication to magic that is rare in Hogwarts students."

"Magic is everything to me," Severus replied, swallowing hard. "The only part of my heritage that matters, the only way I'll ever see power, the only reason- reason I still _bother_ -" He wrapped his arms around himself, unexpectedly emotional and unable to continue. Before he knew it, Professor Patil was kneeling before him so they were of a height, her dark hair falling from her shoulders to frame her face. 

"Because of that," she murmured, "it will respond to you in a way it does not respond to others. Hogwarts behaves much the same, you know. On occasion, we admit students who have never known a home before they come here, and when they do, they learn every nook and cranny the school has to offer, every secret she holds within her walls. Those of us who take her for granted- the usual suspects, Blacks, Prewetts, and embarrassingly, myself- we barely skim the surface of her many mysteries. Magic will respond to your effort and dedication."

Severus left her office oddly comforted, despite having bungled his plan so thoroughly he wanted to smack himself upside the head for trying to carry out such a harebrained scheme in the first place. He was at least relieved that the professor would judge Morrigan on her own merits, and reminded himself to bring it up at their next study session. 

More immediately, he needed to make plans for Samhain. It was coming up soon, and he'd promised his ancestors last Samhain that he'd find a way for them to speak to him. He made his way to the Slytherin dormitory and shut his bed-curtains with a murmured spell, opening one of his many ritual-magic tomes. He'd plan everything out properly, this time.  
_______________________________

It was rare enough that Slytherins that Severus didn't know wanted to speak to him, and rarer still that they would seek him out with such dogged persistence. But Regulus Black, brother of Severus' nemesis, defied all his expectations. When Regulus approached him, at first, he'd assumed the little first-year wanted to strike a bargain similar to Narcissa's, a deal to protect Sirius Black from harm. But even as he suggested the wording, the small grey-eyed boy was shaking his head.

"No," he said. "Siri can take care of himself, and whatever fights he gets into are his own affair. I wanted to speak to you about- about Potions tutoring? I can pay- Cissy suggested I talk to you-"

"Of course she did," Severus growled. "Very well, Black-"

"Regulus," he said. "I'm not my brother."

"Very well, _Regulus_ ," came the reply. "I will be your Potions tutor."

Truth be told, the job was a godsend. The spare cash eased Severus' life at Hogwarts a good deal, allowing him to purchase brand-new robes and sufficient Potions supplies for his experiments and tutoring sessions. Furthermore, it turned out that the reason Regulus' potions were so shoddy was because he, like most pureblood heirs, disdained manual labor. Potions, especially in the early years, was a discipline entirely based upon the quality and speed of one's manual labor. A perfectly diced flobberworm would create a perfect silvery Sleeping Potion where a sloppy, hacked-apart worm would turn the potion blue and inert. Severus gleefully assigned Regulus to the meticulous chopping of jar after jar of ingredient, and was surprised by the dedication with which he worked at it. Pureblood dogs could learn new tricks, after all. 

He pitied Regulus, having that nutter Sirius Black for a brother. He could hardly imagine the pressure- a spare child, not meant to be the heir of the house of Black, having the mantle thrust upon him at the tender age of eleven thanks to his brother's wild antics. Severus was at once jealous and grateful. He would give up almost anything to be the official Prince heir, with the sole exception of his dream of space. That ambition, muggle-cultivated though it might be, was stronger in him than anything that came afterwards. Whether in the muggle or magical world, he'd always be a second-class citizen in some manner. Only in space, in untouched, uninhabited land, could he mold a society to his own ideals, pay magic the homage it was due. The power rushing through his veins, he felt, begged for use. To do anything else would be an undeniable affront to nature, to She who had granted him such a privilege. 

A sudden awareness hit him then, watching Regulus carefully section a gnarled gurdyroot. His magic was not his, not intrinsically. It was a power from Her, from Earth, that he was connected to. It was not part of his self, separate from the rest of the world- it was part of the rest of the world, connecting to him. He closed his eyes, then, ignoring his student's squeak of dissent, and pulled his consciousness inwards, centering himself. There he found the path he'd walked every morning, the sense-feeling of Professor Patil's office, the green leaves of vines stretching towards the light- but this time, he looked within the vines, and found traces of Her there, too. He followed them deeper, towards their source, and found there Earth's hills and valleys, her waves and eddies, her caves and volcanoes. The power he felt was simply Form, pouring into him, allowing him to use his will to manipulate her, to raise mountains where there were none, to whip wind from naught, to pour water from thin air. Form, Form- that was part of the puzzle. But Form alone could not be the fountainhead, for mountains and rains and deserts were in themselves not magical. 

Severus had read about _potentiality_ that summer, about interatomic potentials where attractive and repulsive power was not _in_ either atom, but generated in their differentials, in the space in between. Form was one part of the puzzle, and once he'd identified the other, he'd find the answer in between. The Fountainhead, the source of all potentiality, of all will, of the very force which every magic user needed to manipulate the world. Upon this realization, he felt the world around him as potentiality, as all things in relation to himself, and himself in relation to all things, and realized he, himself, _was_ potentiality. He was un-exerted will, he was the interaction between his body and his chair, his body and his desk, his body and every Form around him. Was _he_ the fountainhead? No, he could not be, because his will only existed in connection to Form- so from whence did his will find him?

His thoughts were interrupted, abruptly, by Regulus yelling his name. He opened his eyes, breathing harshly as if he'd just run a race. What he'd just been thinking was burned into his brain, though he hadn't any idea if it was even half true. It had _felt_ true, though, in some indescribable, instinctual fashion. "Sorry," he said hoarsely to his student. "Did you have a question?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm hoping the mysteries are clear & satisfying... if there's any confusion, i'd love to clear it up in the comments! (and maybe hit the story with a few edits)


End file.
